In Amongst The Beasts
by TK-Productionz
Summary: Leutenant Noose is a special class mercenary that was sent back in time so that 2 factions could fight each other and never come back. Now stuck with the two idiot factions she faces a new mechanical threat…The Maximals and Predicons. Romance comes later.
1. Chapter 1

Year: 2384 CE

Location: A sub level unit on the lower hemisphere of the planet earth.

_Life…_

_Life is as long and distasteful as you make it. Or at least that's the way it's been for the last two hundred and thirty three years._

_My name is Noose. Lieutenant Noose. I'm a Militia class special talent mercenary for the Utopian society patrolled by the 27 leaders and the over seeing, massive computer, The Order._

A lean woman rested against the rotten yellow exterior of a wall that belonged to a building well past its time. Her left arm mounted against her knee, in it a small recording unit was active; its small, red LED light contrasted against the rough shadows cast by the wall. Outside a sorry horizon of a desolate earthy yellow flickered with heat from a harsh sun planted in the sky. In the scarred plot of the scene the woman looked more impatient than perspiring against the setting, impatient in a sense that she was waiting for something, and that something was more intolerable than the sun and all forms of heated malice that came with it.

At top the corner of the wall that connected with ceiling a warped creature crawled slowly. Some light from the sun managed to intermix with the shadows to give off a brown –orange light. The creature that scurried appeared to be the perverted traits of what was once known to be a scorpion, now known as a poison devil scurried along the outdated molding. The tail on the thing swelled and spanned at four inches long and an uncomforting inch wide. At its front were its pincers, swelled with practically just the same deadly amount of poison. The thing itself boasted the diameter equal to the length of a small plate.

Like all things undesirable in this world it held a name suiting that which made it fearsome. It was truly 'the Poison devil', deadly to any one whom grasped it. A long maneuverable stinging tail to protect its back, and two stingers/pincers at its front, ensuring that whoever tried to attack it from the front would have not only two helpings of detrimental poison but it was up to the poison devil itself to judge when it would stop feeding poison to its victims; its pincers are very hard to remove.

There was only one thing that made it questionable in desire and that was the incredibly supplemental almost rejuvenating meat that was tightly compacted to its underside. But only compassionate fate or extreme foolishness would land someone such an amazing meal, one of which that would sustain a starving man for nearly a week.

Noose snapped off the recorder. She growled inwardly. Glaring into the sun and destructive heat her black and neon colored eyes scanned the area.

_Nothing yet_…

She drew back from her twisted position and came to rest against the wall again. She closed her eyes and let her raw tongue prod at the draught her mouth had become. Suddenly a weight landed on her head; oddly curved reeds slid and pressed at the sides of her head. Her eye brows furrowed and her hand lunged for the thing.

Fearing no one or anything the Poison devil did not grow alarmed when it fell from its post on the wall onto something living and considerably much bigger. Its four legs on either side strengthened and lifted to find balance atop the creatures rounded, fur covered head. Its swelled tail remained lowered. It had nothing to fear from this creature if it even flinched it would send near to a gallon of deadly poison into its brain.

Too bad it did not fear the creature it was atop.

Noose effortlessly grabbed the thing and yanked it in the air; it was too stiff out of shock to react. With a flattened palm she thrust it against the strong part of the wall.

The motion did not shatter it but knock it into a noticeable concept of unconsciousness. Enough time for her rip off all three of its poisonous stingers and its legs, she stripped it of its underbelly leaving nothing but a distasteful array of alien organs and tissues considerably foul to those who had the privilege of eating other more palatable things. She bit down hard and the thing sprayed slightly, the nourishing fluids were so abundant in the thing the juices sprayed under the pressure of her hungry jaws.

It was bitter but nourishing, such a universal combination. To her it was just meat, meat that would help her keep alive long enough to allow her to continue waiting for her escort.

_It's ironically humorous how random little memories can resurface into one's mind when looking into the face of a powerful and most perceivably deadly threat._

She was helpless and regretful of ever traveling back in time, two flaws she had not comprised for a rough 17 years. Being pinned into a kneeling position by a 7 foot tall, blue and tan robot that held her in a choke hold; she regretted ever agreeing to the latest time travel assignment her agency had recently conducted.

Noose couched and choked, her hands clawed at the reptilian dermis that lined the robot's Palmaris. Without even a mechanical sputter it effortlessly lifted her into the air. Now she dangled in front of it. Her bleary eyes position on the robot's face, its mouth pulled into a downward crescent as it literally snarled at her, she could not restrain the flow of panic and adrenaline coursing through her body as she saw that under its lips were defined twin bottom and top rows of white pointed teeth.

She would not panic. Instead she would resort in the only way she saw fit in responding to deal with this surreal situation. The only way she knew how to react was with harsh, physically reactive force.

This would've been a great maneuver, if the creature was of organic composition rather than mechanic…

Each time she moved her feet into a kick, her foot connected with metal causing a resounding clang to echo through the alien corridors. Being with dysfunctional nerve receptors from the waist down, she could not feel the amazing pain that would be the natural reaction to one smashing their foot against a hard surface, she could, however anticipate a progressive deformation of her feet.

That only made the thing become more agitated with her, as oxygen was quickly depleting from her systems and her mind began to leisurely swim in and out of rationality she swore that the thing was trying to communicate with her.

Her estranged vision reported that his mouth was truly moving. With the fluctuating reliability of her ears, also effect by slackened oxygen amounts she could hear a harsh growling and snarling language filter from its intensely shaped mouth.

He really was snarling some kind of obscure but once again oddly familiar dialect. While her brain was momentarily logical she scowled at not being able to understand whatever it was trying to communicate to her.

A stunned moan escaped her as its oddly fingered fist tightened around her jugular, forcing out the humiliating sound. She could feel its talons begin to puncture skin. What remained of the air within her became nonexistent as she could palpate the coming effect that she would pass out any moment now.

_Well I'm really fucked now... _Were her last words as the world around her became clotted in heavy black sheaths, before her eyes rolled back into her head she could see another oddly patterned in colors of red white and brown robot rushing towards them yelling some sort of reprimand.

Its inscrutable hollering was cut short as her hearing died and her eyes rolled into the backs of her sockets. In the back of her mind she could feel the pressure around her neck begin to slacken, but it would not be fast enough to save her consciousness.

Her last thought were her figuring's that she was dead, or about to die, either way there was no way to fight her way out of this one.


	2. Chapter 2

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She held the position of definite lower class, the classification of large clusters of people who were not enforced by the 27 leaders and The Order, those who were outside the Order's titanium coated haven.

Not being enforced by the one and only federation left on earth, these people were left to act like animals, breed wildly and often produce disfigured and debilitated offspring.

Killing to survive, sometimes killing just to eliminate. The clusters were at constant war with one another excluding no gender or age from the perverse battles.

Such a ruthless and bloodthirsty environment was perfect for harvesting troops and dirty hands to carry out the darker sides of the Utopian society's decisions. Noose was the epitome of such scandalous affairs; her traits were ruthless like nature's hunters and predators. She saw no disgust in death nor did she find a twisted release. To her death was something that had two outcomes: those around you will die, you will die. That sense of logic was as constant as her steady, unheard breathing.

The clusters of lower class were always in constant battle; the utopian society anticipated that and decided to ignore them. Ignoring them was easy with the 50 meter wide shatter-proof, intensive heat proof material that domed around the vast area of the utopia. Not to mention the society's ignorance grew with the incredibly sophisticated hologram projection system that ran constantly on the inside of the dome; for the most part those who were born in the utopia or had no political/militia ties were without indication of any outside, underprivileged and barbaric world.

The society's ignorance would now and then come at a price, however, as the outer world would randomly have its moments of war that would erupt cataclysmically and threaten the impenetrable dome and all its ignorant inhabitants.

Such moments were the climax of Noose's career. Through some twist of fate, the lower class' uncontrolled breeding would produce beings capable of wide scale domination and military expansion to the point of nuclear and bio warfare.

If the twist of fate was really fortunate, the dictator or confederation would be smart enough to use their nightmarish contraptions as a form of bargain against the wealthy and technologically advanced utopia. The latest formations of power were two groups.

The first group was a colony that had stumbled upon their ancestor's commune, the Soviet Union.

They had discovered their technology and manipulation of the atomic structure. After a long era of experimentation and the horrible suffrage that occurred from the radioactivity of their sought out prize, the struggling had created that which was one of only two things that could threaten the utopia's way of life. They declared themselves as the Güçlü Специалист Террор Tiān Táng, or the GCTT for short. Their title translates from preserved languages of the massive region of ice and land, Turkish, a modified dialect of Chinese and The most overpowering, Russian; roughly translated their title is the Powerful-Master-Terror-Paradise.

The other group, situated literally on the complete opposite side of the world on the southern hemisphere, a rich autocratic cluster of families had wed themselves together, and began to take over the populace. For fifty years the cluster wasn't even a smear on the Order's report papers; but granted, anything can become great if it's overlooked for a long enough time.

In 2372 the group's freshest young leader possessed a head that had quite a few ideas forming within it.

He used his power and spread it across the southern hemisphere gathering factions. With combined effort the faction was able to raise itself to a higher level and develop sections of growth.

This new leader was not only cunning in the motives of power but a savant as well. In his moments of free time he began to study the idea of disease and the variable effects it could have on the human body. Often he would lock himself away from the world, delving his conscious in the remnants of medical journals that had survived the massive fallout of chaos.

He started experimentation and deep study patterns; his body was the perfect subject to study. Before birth his womb had been infiltrated by rare virus, like diabetes type 1 this virus had the ability to enter a pregnant mother and 'infect' the child without the mother being infected as well; but unlike diabetes this virus would remain dormant for years. Flowing through the infected bloodstream until the virus was full from eating years worth of varying selection's of the victim's T-cells.

Without warning it would strike, starting with the victim's Hypothalmus and working its way from there. Granted the overpowering flashes of heat stroke it caused would not kill the patient instantly, no if nature could be cruel and sadistic this virus was the epitome of life's cruelty. It would take years for him to die naturally, his body's own natural heat killing him.

The virus is titled **Fiebre de Calor de Selva, or the jungle heat fever and in that part of the world it is one of the most frightening illnesses the body can perish from.**

Now at the age of 30 his body is extremely frail, and can be easily destroyed by the out side world.

To prevent over heating and deterioration he patented a suit designed with a climatic system to keep his body at normal temperatures and keep out foreign pathogens. He never takes it off and orders his body guards to kill anyone who draws too close to him without his permission.

He took from his power and fashioned a large collective group of scientists he had purchased from the Order. The scientists were the product of a trade he had bargained for in return of selling off literally all of his land and people for the Order to use in what would be illegal experimentation back in the years of the 2050's. With the scientists at his command he demanded the creation of a new agent of biological terrorism.

It took many years in which the minority of scientists died from exposure to harsh pathogens, but finally a new agent was invented. His empire expanded with the threat he fashioned out of a new form of anthrax.

The new anthrax hybrid was a rather unstable organism, and once airborne it would stay that way until absorbed into the lungs of the desired target. Once inside it masked its evil doings by making itself appear to be nothing more than a sinus infection, all the while the microorganism would begin to slowly eat away at the body's vascular tissues, breaking them down into fluids, a week later the victim would die, literally drowning in their own fluids.

Equipped not only with the Anthrax virus, he also was the only person in the world that held the counter-virus that would undo the effects. He would ransom off a population's very lives, giving them a week to produce whatever he wanted, if they had the item he desired he would grant them the antidote, if not they would all drown, turning their city into a river of bodily fluids.

He called himself The Dictatorship. He waged war against every other out world power that was under the Order.

Lately he had become cocky in his middle age and decided to wage war against the Специалист Террор Tiān Táng (GCTT), unlike the many collections of people he had gone up against before the GCTT actually had leverage against him.

He unleashed the virus on some 2,000 innocent citizens in the western portion of the GCTT as a calling card for his power. Far beyond angry the GCTT launched 3 U-235 Gun-triggered Fission Bombs to crash down upon his experimentation sites, the over all result the simple trio they launched held was a 14.5-kiloton yield, equal to 14,500 tons of TNT.

This defense set him back years in bacteriological research, but as fate would have it, he still possessed enough cases of his raw Anthrax virus to wipe the GCTT off the face of the earth.

Now the two powers were in a considerably dangerous stale-mate, only Noose and the failsafe program of time travel would be used to settle the two forces out and resettle the shaken barriers of the Order's commune.

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	3. Chapter 3

She continued to chide into her sound recorder, her attachment to the thing slowly began to move away as the dawning of a new sound came faintly on the rising heat.

She gripped the sound recorder tightly resounding into its receptors harshly to keep her mind focused on the little machine and not on the progressive dawn of six grinding wheels that now reverberated through her ear passages.

Her vice and raucous were of no avail; now insufferably petulant she snapped off the device. Stuffing it into her breast pocket she snapped her eyes shut in order to think.

How she could tell it existed as a six-wheel vehicle rather than a 4-wheel vehicle is because she drove both since the day her feet could reach the pedals. To her trained ears a significant sound could be produced from either vehicle. A 4-wheel vehicle has a considerably shallow sound made from its spaced quadrisect, the sound is shallow because four-wheelers carry less weight and are meant for speed. The six-wheeler is known for being a desert tank, unlike its cousin the six wheeler is especially more destructible but given its maneuvering capability it's more resourceful therefore its limited invulnerability is an accepted sacrifice. Still like a tank its sound is much heavier, its lethargic movement can be heard amidst the yawning grind of six tires carrying an armored van.

She looked over to the huge mass of brute, but technologically superior canon that was her only companion in the hollowed out building. If she dawned the heavy weapon she could easily blow the six-wheeler and all of the people concealed within its metal storage to hell. With her Gatling canon they could never acquire a chance to reciprocate in attack.

A voice snapped its fingers around the base of her skull; she straightened against the wall to hear it with more desired attentiveness.

Her voice of reason; the'_ask questions, then reduce them to subatomic dust_' voice was always the governing faction in her brain. Given certain situations its tone would be rather muffled but the onslaught raucous of adrenal based intuition and skepticism that came with success and injury from battle.

_Could be your filed supervisor_….

Her mind spoke an irksome truth.

She turned around to position herself at the edge of the missing plate of wall, she peered over.

Against the lilac blue sky and a white beige desert ground a vehicle; book-sized at its distance floated through the dancing tapestry of heat rising on the air. It swayed; not exactly driving in a straight line, it tempted her mind into dismissing it as just a stubborn mirage.

She did not dismiss it though; her eyes and mind were enlightened by the desert's insufferable trickster tendencies and elaborate performances it saved for those who were water-dependent.

She frowned; the vehicle was now decipherable in her reach of vision. Taking a sharp veer to the right its side completely exposed to her ocular senses. Surveying the side emblem, freshly applied with expensive paint, her knowledge scanned and categorized it.

Having to be a know-it-all of the current surrounding powers just in ordinance to survive, she naturally relayed the symbol into her mind and drew out all the information that she collected over 25 years. Knowing all those who were one's enemy keeps that person a perceptive individual rather than a dead ignoramus. Having such knowledge to her advantage she looked the emblem and the symbol and colors it's so proudly boasted she frowned.

The emblem that shined gloriously in the sun was a complete fake.

_This was definitely her party alright_…

She rolled her eyes at the bad-luck she held in having coordinators that possessed no knowledge of the surroundings they so blindly delved into.

Rolling up from the floor, her knees cracked piercingly. She trudged up to the hole in the wall. Facing the shredded outlet, gripping the sides, her tripolythane-kevlar gloves vibrated against the ripped and jagged surface. She exhaled and ducked through.

As usual the sun was a fiery tyrant in the sky, the blue portions of her eyes clenched at the sun's brilliance and forced her to make her way to the oncoming six-wheeler with her head cast to the ground.

She forced herself to lookup.

_Besides everyone knows that pain is good for character…_She smiled inwardly and noted that the glare she had on her face because she was so desperately trying to squint out the sun would look aggressive; a definite positive expression one would try to hold in the ward of fellow infantry.

The six-wheeler was no more than 10 feet when it swerved madly to not hit her. This action resulted with a plum of sand dust to rush into the air around the car like a weightless veil.

COUGH-HEH! She glared, coughing without restraint at the tumult of air-blown dust.

"Lousy bastard… Who the fuck taught that kid to drive?"

Now the absolute fake vehicle halted, close enough to touch. Still hacking she nearly got side-swiped by the oncoming force of the vehicle's heavy side door opening.

Before anyone could butt their head out she quickly composed her self, biting down and clenching her throat, the look of alarm wiped from her face, her act in the sudden company was utterly superfluous.

There hanging out of the open space of the six-wheeler was her long time comrade, Amando Kofi Basir. Roughly translated through African, Arabic and Italian his name means lovable man born on Friday who is wise. For her and his other comrades he was simply Hani. (Means happy in Arabic.) Standing at 5'4" he looked like a clay-colored, 13 year old boy with facial hair and the most amazing biceps. His hair, practically white and styled in gorgeous natural curls was of shoulder length but was drawn back in the poorest attempts to fashion the most ragged looking pony tail the on the earth's surface. His attire, like Noose's was a form fitting Kevlar suit, sinewy and gray like Noose's his angular frame and the mix-matched placement of his bulgy muscles made his body look cartoon-ish in the wiry material. He always had a smile, angelic and sweet his smile appeared to those who didn't know him well. For those that did know him his smile was more of that which is to be bared on the face of a lofty trickster.

His history with Noose was one that in length was yet to be achieved by anyone else… He had seen her at the worst; the best, he knew her secrets. And worst of all he knew that she despised him for leaving her to join the Order to enhance his financial and social benefit.

That was the thing she hated him for. She did not despise him for the many times he had attempted to kill her, for money no less. No, she honored him for that; she had respected him for every time she nearly died in his grasp. After all she too was a merchant of death, a killer, a mercenary, she found the idea of payment for the deaths of many in war was an honest job, and if she became part of the task of obliteration for payment, then so be it. What she decided made him in her eyes a weakling was that he had purposely handed over his freedom for a nice little room the Order provided.

Here he was, the Order tainted slime; the one that knew all her secrets and could fire her at any moment if he felt like it, hanging out of the door frame like a brown skinned, white mane monkey.

He smiled that brilliant mock smile, his teeth were vividly white, a definite visible trait of living life the pampered way within the confines of the Order's steel covered womb.

"Noose…" His voice tempted her heavily delimited aggression into unfurled spasms. "It's so sincerely great to see you."

At that moment she wanted to rip off his indulged little head and shove it up his taut little ass.


	4. Chapter 4

The van was as hot as eternal damnation. Unlike her little villa of the run down building, this vehicle had absolutely no substance at all, the torrent of the sun was free to beam down rays of fire and cook the 12 that were squished amongst one another. The heat and the diminishing air in the hull was so bad it threatened to melt the people together.

Completely put off by the idea of two men's sweating, alien bodies squished against her in an act that was in no way sexual, she pushed herself against the searing sun-scorned metal wall of the vehicle. With nothing better to do, she pulled out her recorder and began to rant.

_Every time I begin a mission…_

_I am reminded of the Order and how much it sickens me._

Her mood, though completely without rage or disappointment looked more fearsome calm as it was now instead of the sadistic grimace all others produced when speaking of their worst antagonist.

_I am stuck between so many hapless causes._

_Look at these men!!_

She glared circling her furrowed brow around the two rows of soldiers.

_Pawns…Absolutely nothing but Pawns!! The pampered cowards that do the Order's bidding in return for a decent meal._

The troops were silent, even though she continued insulting them, ranting on about, _how they enslaved themselves to the fascist Order, _instead of living life sincerely; in havoc and anarchy.

What she believed; she truly didn't believe in anything she always said religion was for fools, but what she thought to be the greatest way to live life could be found in anarchy. Since she had survived the tumult, rape, incest, sin and murder of the lack of governing, so could everyone else, she figured.

Across the meager 4 foot space a young soldier, spry and cocky, mirrored her seat, leaning over to avoid the heat from the body next to him.

His name was Roshan Adisa and this was his first real mission as an armed escort in the great desert. His excitement for being a soldier and his patriotism to the Order already doomed him to be painfully corrected by Noose the full-blooded Anarchist.

Never even hearing mention of Noose he encompassed no restraint in his action of revolt against her petty judgments and labeling of him and his fellow troops.

"Well if you've got such a problem with the Order, why do you work with them in the first place!?!!"

She stopped, mid-syllable.

An inaudible gasp raced across the two lines of troops.

Not even twitching an eyebrow, she snapped off her recorder and began, what seemed to be a heavily prolonged process to all the nervous spectators, of placing the recorder into her breast pocket.

She raised her head to meet the cocky side long glance he portrayed as a small victory in getting her to shut up.

The look became evanescent when her eyes rolled up to gaze into his.

They were unlike anything he ever witnessed. Her irises were glossy ebony, a color that had no expression, but within the black pools, scattered puddles of brilliant blue could be seen dancing in the flickered sun light. The blue gave off just the slightest clue that she had life in her. The lids around her eyes appeared heavy giving the eyes a lazy facade as if they had witnessed everything that had existed in the universe and to that effect were unimpressed by the intense vastness the universe had to offer.

Her face, light tan and textured with hundreds of subtle scars, looked chiseled out of stone with the effect of her lack of emotion. Her mouth was pulled into a line that was just above a frown. The pink highlight of a defined scar could be distinguished as a small stripe across her lips, starting at the left side of her upper lip and dying at the flare of her chin.

"Excuse me…?"

Her voice had no tone but its dullness was the trait that allowed it to reverberate down the man's spine and send him into a growing state of unrest.

Too shaken by her sudden presence to use logic he blindly pushed himself further into the inferno.

"I-I mean…Where do you get off? What gives you the right to patronize us? After all we did come all the way through this pitiful sand pit, we killed who knows how many worthless out-worlders to find-out what rock you were hiding under. You don--"

His raving was cut short as a vice like hand shot out of nowhere and clasped at his jugular with the force of jungle python.

His hand crept up and grabbed at it trying to wrench free but no avail. As oxygen slowly began to deplete from his head his eyes wandered down the Kevlar plated neck of the hand to find it connected to Noose. In hindsight he could already see himself regretting in ever pissing the woman off as he saw that she had an arm that rivaled all of the men in his platoon and unfortunately for him that arm was slowly beginning to drain the life out of him.

Now she was mad, he had insulted her, which really she didn't care what he had to say about her. What really pissed her off was that he had gone so far as to insult her home, however truly desolate and hot it may be, and he had insulted her people, who were in fact mindless rebels and anarchists that ran around killing each other; but she held great respect for them and their ability to thrive in such a desolate and violent environment.

"Noose…" A soldier who had accompanied her now and again moaned wearily about the situation of the writhing rookie that she strangled in her grasp.

She rose up a hand to silence him.

If she was going to act out of color (that being out of color for the men around her, she strangled many people on a regular basis for reasons she could not always account for.) She was at least going to enjoy the moment. In the back of her mind she knew she could not kill him; it would be an inconvenience for her and however long the rest of the trip would last. Dead bodies tend to stink up places rather fast when there's a desert heat.

She took a moment to hear the tiny mumbles of pleading he tried to produce as the pressure her hand invoked caused him to gargle as result of not being allowed to breathe. His neck felt like foam in her hand, compared to her Gatling cannon the bones of his neck felt like a young bendable tree branch.

"Hmm…"

Her eyes slit and a frail smile produced on her mouth.

"Where do I get off?"

"Well let's see..."

Her powerful arm drew him close so that his eyeballs, already watery and rolling in his head could be consumed by her inhuman eyes.

"Where I get off is the uncountable number of times you shit-headed-bastard-army-brats shove a gun barrel up my ass in attempt to make me squawk! Now I'm sick and tired of how green you guys can be. How most of you guys figure your members are large enough that you think you can mount me, only to find that you could never fully satisfy me…"

She cut off what she had hoped to ingrain into his mind as she saw that he was becoming purple.

"But you know what really make me sick and tired..?"

She paused even though she figured that if he really didn't have enough oxygen to put up a fight with both arms against her one arm, he surely didn't have enough to hear what she was saying.

"Your blind allegiance to the Order…"

She sighed.

"Look I do work for them, but only so that I can use their advanced weaponry and maybe someday, unleash hell within their titanium lined city."

She released him from her vice the moment before his body went limp.

The color absolutely drained from his body, his limp carcass splayed in odd positions as soon as it flopped to the ground. Several troops rushed to his crumpled form.

She turned away from him, and looked toward the secluded cockpit of the six-wheeler. In the door frame was Hani, he looked indifferent but she could read his features perfectly.

_He's dead_

She could hear him say even though he did not speak it.

She looked to her left hand and the bulbous monstrosity of muscles it had become over the years of carrying her heavy firearm. She clenched her fist, burying the Kevlar covered nails of her hand deep into her palm till she could feel bone.

She tried to shake off the regret she had in losing control and ending the boy's life without reason.

She would have felt nothing for his death if it hadn't been for such a pointless cause as chewing him out because he was ignorant.

As her hand unraveled so did whatever tiny bit of grief she had for his death.


	5. Chapter 5

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After being crammed in literally a sun baked can for 7 hours, she was yet again to be stuffed in a container that was comparably just as small in its cargo hull and just as sun scarred. A small, rusty plane held her, her 400 pound gun and 15 other men as it zoomed across the vast western ocean. Relaxation and absence of anxiety were traits never to be found amongst the 16 member crew.

Noose sat rigid and unmoving, her Gatling cannon erected on its butt, rested against her. Undetectable to the men around her she gripped the handle giving her comfort and relief from the disconcerting sound of crashing random parts against each other in the planes seemingly ancient engines.

Many of the men around were busy mentally citing their wills and reviewing their lives and how they had spent them.

Hani, who was across from her except two men over to the right, was engaged with retching out the complete inner workings of his bowels. His intestines were metaphorically being loaded into the bag by way of his mouth, already over filling the bag and seeping out.

Noose took a moment out of her stare into the abyss, (Her staring was doing wonders of suppressing the urge to run around in circles screaming, an urge she developed quite frequently when her life was placed into the hands of an incapable pilot and dead aviation machinery.)

Methodically her eyes leveled up to the sad, puking disgrace that was Hani.

She noted the metal image of his small intestines being purged from his body by way of his gaping mouth, how they filled the white air-sickness bag, their natural liquids creating stain spots against the bag's immaculate white surface. She smiled in thinking that this gastronomic expulsion would be complete and perfected if his Large intestine and colon were the last things to be emptied into the bag, conflicting at how full with intestines the bag was the sickly gray hose organ flailed like a snake before falling to the ground.

With bile and excrement his jaw open, his mouth gurgling Hani eyes rolled around in his sockets as his body, purged of all its gastronomic features as well as its corroboration to support life plummets in death to ground, creating a quite audible splattering and squishy noise as his pronouncedly dead body falls on top of the bag of all his rebuked digestive organs.

_If only_…

She smiled wickedly at the disturbingly random idea of the suitable death for her long associated comrade. Her graphic musings came to a sudden halt with yet another, graphic and painful clamor of Hani's aggravated gag reflex.

She rolled her eyes; the excursions of anything that still remained within his gut had finally produced a reactive effect on her, desperately turning her head else where she finally spotted an object that lacked retainer ship of human regurgitation.

The small window had an air of bad condition that matched everything else on the plane. The window, cloudy in certain areas, shook horribly due to its chronic diminishing hold onto the window's metal rim.

From what she could see at 7 feet away, something began to conjure into the window's sights.

She pulled herself out of the mangled seat, her gun at her side and made her way over to the gray shape that began to slide into view.

Resting on one knee her tripolythane-kevlar hands reached up to cleanse the window and get a better look.

The trip was complete hell but by looking through the window she found to her happiness that it was not an eternal hell. From the small, in disrepair view port she gazed upon the metal colossus that was the Order.

Green and brown tapestry made the land below them, but as the small carrier made its way towards the Order, a great and obnoxious metallic structure severed the earth's natural pattern.

"Holy-Hell!" A distant voice came somewhere from behind. "Whoa Yusef, you told me the Order was huge but you really failed in telling me how huge it really is…"

Noose nodded at his statement, even though the comment wasn't directed towards her.

Wiping sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand she took a moment of reflection to remember the first time she had entered the Order's Huge Domed innards.

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"So tell me again what it is I have to do…"

A woman in her mid 20's sat uncomfortably in a small crevice between two soldiers literally twice her size and width.

The man in front of her leaned over, by leaning over his voice had to fight less with the overall clamor of the tin-can's roaring engine and horrible grating of its rusting chain wheels.

The desert sun was notorious for inserting its Dante-like heat onto and into everything its fiery eyes laid upon, the progressing 8-wheel Achzarit Mk 1 armored-personnel-carrier-rust-bucket was especially of no exception to the Desert Star's brutality. The 8 troops inside the carrier's hull were a little under the temperature of fried flesh.

After a long battle against the threat of scorching to death in the tank the young commander had to fight another battle against the heat, only this time the threat of heat exhaustion was accompanied by the threat of falling to her doom.

Noose age 22, was venturing onward to the civilization known as the Order.

The nostalgia was severed as Hani's voice slashed through the air.

"Alright Ladies here we are!!!"

Noose shot up, wide eyed she recollected her steel composure.

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The time travel had consisted of one sense that could describe their departure, complete and indescribable pain.

It started from both opposite poles of your body at the very tip, slowly and excruciatingly burning and grinding its way down to the very midline of the body while the world around shook and destroyed itself as indescribable speed and motion ripped through the very logic of space.

Her eyes were shut through the entire process, the absence of vision being the only thing to barricade against the battle of chemical and velocity forces that clenched tight onto her and the 2 factions that were inside the chrono chamber.

Luckily for her the burning pain had already lapsed over the superior part of her head ripping the ability to hear from her before the sheer sound of those screaming in absolute agony around her drove her into a homicidal insanity.

Completely washed over in negative sensation, a sensual inferno eating away each layer of her flesh consecutively in a washing pattern, her mind was in the clear.

Her mind and body were so possessed by the sensation of agony, that the two were no adapted. Letting her eyes roll into her head she imagined what the people around her looked like.

Mouths stretched as far as could be, sickening lines ripped at their vulnerable dermis. Other clenched and mashed their jaws so hard that death would be inevitable because soon enough they would bite off their own tongues and bleed to death as reaction to the agony their un-prepped bodies were going through.

She drew out her arms and allowed her mind to further delve into the imagery and sounds of their ungodly shrieks, convulsions, and self mutilation in defense of the burning pain.

All at once life was pulled back into her, drawing in air and the contortions of her muscles she could feel her bones crack.

Lucky for her she had already done this process for 15 years, her body was more than able to compensate for the hellish sensation then compensation of being pulled back into a matter-based reality.

The poor bastards around her however were not so lucky.

"Noose!!!"

A young boy-like West Continenter called over to her. She shouldered her large weapon and jogged over to the spot.

A small beige cloud rose from her halt. She glared down at the adolescent soldier. He sat on the patched green and brown earth on his knees, staring up at her, somewhat pathetic in expression. His gun laid out on his knees, furthering the imagery of him appearing as a little boy who broke his toy.

She sneered the scarred part of her upper lip as her unreal eyes weighed heavily upon him.

"What…?"

He nodded to the soldier next to him laying down on his back as if taking a nap.

Estavan Nuno, the Dictatorship faction's, second in command lay on the grassy terrain, eyes pointed in opposite directions as his mouth lay open and gurgled.

Somehow the liquid tissues and chemical components of his brain had been switched in the chemical reactions that accompanied time travel. Instead of complex chemicals such as serotonin, they had all been radically replaced by HCL, a corrosive solution that had already destroyed what had made him living in the first place.

She cocked her head to see the angle of where the back of his head met ground, a deep bloody shadow began to enhance beneath his skull as the powerful acid reacted to the gravity and position of his head and began to eat through the posterior.

She looked at the boy once more.

Whatever it was within him that persuaded the Dictatorship's leader to employ him she didn't see as she stared straight into his eyes. They were wide and rippled by progressing tears.

"Forget about him."

Consciously avoiding the entire troop of the other faction she put herself as far away from the two groups as she could.

The sky was unnatural to her, it was blue and clear. Unlike the common beige overhang of pollutants and advanced pathogens that lurked in her native atmosphere.

Things were green, and luscious, the insects that flitted along the breeze and between her feet were not massive and trying to kill her.

To her, things were surreal, like the many ads and parks she had seen when ever she was summoned to the Order. Nothing had apocalypse or nuclear mutation written all over it.

Without the need of worry or restraint she took in a deep inhale. The air was truly as its name depicted, air, nothing inside it to make it heavy and contaminate her lungs, nothing that clogged her sinuses and left a scratch in her throat, nothing that would give her brain damage.

The carbon investigate chrono-depiction device was stored in the containment cell of the armor covering her inner thigh, placed next to the first aid packages.

Usually such an unordinary device would go in the bottom case of her dorsal packs, but since war had become such a regular demand lately, especially those that could only have their full potential in a different time period, she had decided to keep it in a much more accessible place.

Her old, tired knee popped as she stooped down to the ground. The front glass prism part of the handheld device burrowed efficiently into ground as result of the sharp tip.

Once fully submerged she punched several buttons into the side key panel awkwardly with her thumb as her fingers held it in place.

With her gun already laying on its side her other hand came across her and unlatched a snap from her belt, opening a small case cover she drew out a cord from the belt by its inlet. She connected the cord to the device and began speaking monotone commands into the small receiver that was near her mouth. Connected to the earphone part of her head set.

"Acceptance code begin analysis---"

"Code word."

"**Bastard**…"

"Connect server to internal power core begin carbon dating data retrieval. Device serial number 74658—ACE."

A small fake phone operator-lady's voice chimed lightly into her ear piece.

"_Retrieval complete, radiocarbon dating concludes a subtraction of 12,384 radiocarbon years. Estimate of chrono terminology_ … _Between 9560 and 9300 of Before Common Era_… _The Pre-Holocene Era of Neogene period_."


	6. Chapter 6

"FUCK-ASS BASTARDS!!!!!!!!!!!"

The stream of obscenities seemed to travel across the valley lands with the wind.

"THOSE FUCKING CUM-LICKERS WILL PAY!!!!!"

She outstretched the last word as long and as far as her voice could go before her vocal system was cut short by the cracking of its own auditory projection.

She grabbed her gun, aiming it at a meager tree, she lowered it.

Those bastards at the Order had really fucked her over this time. Every time she undergoed the process of time travel she had to obey three rules.

No interacting with people of that time. No defacing of landmarks or historical marks. No explosions.

A single mistake and she could reset the balance of human history forever, one thing left unkept and she would no longer exist.

Now she was supposed to walk on fucking eggshells with both arms tied behind her back as the two factions and herself were in the period of man's most basic arrival.

She dropped the gun with little remorese, dancing around, she jumped and down readjusting her slanderous cursing to the tune of her absolute hate for the factions and the Order.

Cannons, firearms and all other things used to slaughter and rip things apart were on display and being used with a heavy, homicidal self-indulgence.

The two powers grappled the other by the throat, the missiles and 55 caliber bullets they projected at one anther were the metaphysical fingers in which they attempted to crush their enemy's windpipe.

Their first battle, so fierce was this destructive mêlée, and it was only for territory.

Radoslav and his GCTT dug a deep trench, kneeling like worms in the dirt their deep nook granted prevention of their bodies being ripped apart by the enemy fire.

"Ничего не стоящие ублюдки!!!! (_WORTHLESS BASTARDS!_)"

Radoslav howled in euphoric mantra whenever he stuck his head over the rim of the trench.

He turned over to see four of his men, curled over the rim, taking charge of reciprocating offensive gunfire. He smiled, Radoslav was an addict of war and he was receiving an overdose in seeing his men so boldly risking their lives to assert their faction and gain territory. He looked down at the other two, his strategist and field tactician. The two knelt over a small plasma screen monitor. It projected a flat overhead viewing of the area, the strategist mumbled something to the tactician and in response he raised a small device in his palm and entered something into it, the plasma monitor made a beep and the image it projected on the screen became a neon outlined mapping of the area in three dimensional scale at a horizontal perspective. The two smiled at each other before matching eyes with their commander who stood above them, watching them without understanding.

"что имеет Вас два найденный?-(_What have you two found_?)" He smiled with a twisted sweetness.

The strategist spoke up "Хорошо, так как мы - фракция, которая любит быть наступательной… (_Well since we are a faction that likes to be offensive_…)"

"Да? -(_Yes_?)"

"Меня и Юрия здесь нашел положение, которое будет буквально прекрасно. -(_Me and Yuri here found a position that would be literally perfect_.)"

The tactician preceded him, "Ее расположенный только север отсюда и это обеспечило бы большое покрытие, для нашего нарушения и защиты. -( _Its located just north from here and it would provide great cover, for our offense and defense_.)"

"Замечательный.-(_Wonderful_.)" "Все, в чем мы нуждаемся теперь, - для Петли, чтобы отогнать их с ее тяжелыми боеприпасами, и затем Северная территория будет нашей для взятия. –(_All we need now is for Noose to drive them away with her heavy ammunition and then the northern territory will be ours for the taking_.)"

The three looked around naively, Noose was without visual location.

"Это могло бы быть проблемой. –( _That might be a problem_.)" The tactician said, his voice sounding rather un-nerved.

"И почему - это?!-(And why is that?!)"

"Поскольку мы не получили известие от Петли, так как сражение вспыхнуло. И сражение началось по крайней мере три часа назад. –( _Because we haven't heard from Noose since the battle broke out. And the battle started at least three hours ago_.)"

Hrrr!!! Radoslav ground his fingertips into the soft molds of his palms.

He had a premonition that something like this would happen, Noose never appeared as a being that followed orders, much less followed her appointed leader into combat.

He knew better than anyone that Noose was not in anyway composed of anything that assembled cowardice. She had not even a single spot of yellow on her belly, more off she had a heavy record for disobedience even at the level of defying the Order.

The thing that was the effect of her desertion which left him so unraveled and unconsciously carving holes into his palms was the utter inconceivable fact that her dismissal of the mission had been so juvenile.

The first battle was far from over, the two sides were yet to even pick territories and set up camp.

What from the present earth that they had exported from could dwell inside a single human female and possess her to be so bold as to abandon her troops, before the real war had even commenced?

What was even worse was the lingering feeling of confidence at her skills and amazing firepower; since she had disappeared without at trace their strategy, (Which revolved entirely around her and her Gatling Cannon.) dried up and died. The opposing faction would win this battle and gain their desired territory for sure.

"В порядке мужчины продолжают стрелять!!!(_ALRIGHT MEN KEEP FIRING!!!_)"

He called out to the four men returning fire triumphantly.

Both the strategist and tactician were swept off their feet, "Но Сэр!?-(_But Sir_!?)"

"НО НИЧТО!-(_But Nothing_!)" He glared.

"Мы не работали столь трудно для нашей власти и рисковали ее существованием только, чтобы поехать назад в течение времени так, чтобы мы могли потерять сражение.-( _We did not work so hard for our power and risk its existence only to travel back through time so that we may lose the battle_.)"

"Мы собираемся выигрывать эту войну… –(_We are going to win this war_…)" "С или без помощи Петли.-(_With or without the help of Noose_.)"

The two were fragile under his gaze, though they retained a violent/abusive history from being under command of General Radoslav, they had never gained an experience as life threatening as the moment they were positioned in. His gaze bore down on the two men in the effect that a 10 ton steel drum has on an egg.

Dima Prokhor Bai the tactician and Arkadiy Tuan the strategist took defensive measures to preserve their life functions as they saw their commander's index finger wavering over the trigger to his electro-static pulse generating Kalashnokov.

"Я создам новую стратегию...-( _I'll create a new strategy_...)" Arkadiy Tuan said scrambling over to the distant area where his computer lay.

"И я обеспечу огонь покрытия для наших мужчин.-( _And I'll provide cover fire for our men._)" Dima followed in pursuit.

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The GCTT had at least a few things they could boast for, first off they were the finest quality producers of porn in all of the outside world. They had a great sense of style when it came to dressing their troops. Their Vodka, a concotion mixed with just the slightest Nitroglycerin and arsenic, has been known to send its drinkers to heaven, literally.

Noose stared up at the sky with fuzzy eyes, the intense alcohol felt great in her systems. After literally half of a day she laid comatose on the ground, the drink releasing her from the burdening duties of timeline maintenance.

Raising both hands, as if the sky would suddenly grow arms and carry her away she watched day and sun die, its starry corpse and empty moon skull laid atop the earth.

The unsullied soil felt good being brutally crushed and eviscerated under the complexity of her combat boot's rugged tread. The air; all its horrible, life-threatening pollutants were left behind in her time, all that was that composed it was a healthy mixture of oxygen, carbon dioxide and dominant mass of nitrogen. It felt clean and refreshing against her sun and scar tissue molested face, its cool, immaculate characteristics wiped at her face, cleansing away the dirt and grime.

She cracked a smile and drooped her brows, on this mid-morning trek she was actually enjoying herself. On a mission no less!

Next time her agency called her into battle she would have to desert her troops much sooner, never before had she obtained such a vacation.

The earth retained a green color not considered conceivable in her lifetime, green as the juiciest melons that only the patrons of the Order could feast upon. She toyed with a thought in her mind about biting hard into the lush green grass and forestry, in an experiment to see if it could possibly be as sweet as those melons she had long since heard of but never had the permission to feast upon herself.

Her mind dismissed it slightly, but by ripping out a single thread of grass she half allowed her mind the indulgence of imagining it as a strand of sweet melon.

By no means was it juicy in the way of being sweet, but it was bursting with hydration, a tell tale sign of how healthy the earth was in the pre-Holocene period.

A few hours later her stomach began a mass protest against the rest of her conformist systems, after a long dispute and remonstration she finally gave in and sought out vegetation and fauna she could prey upon without upsetting the time balance.

On following a massive waterfall that spanned as a running rapid for 12 twelve miles, her stomach grew tired of being delayed in its compensation and decided to wage a full violent bombing on her abdomen. She took the terrorist attack with a mitigated desire to send an organic martial law upon her revolting gastronomic organizations. She quickly vetoed that notion upon seeing the violent stream of rapids leak out into a vast basin. On a ledge 30 feet above the calmed waters, marine life could be indicated from the water's stillness.

She smiled rubbing her stomach; it would get its due after all.

It was a struggle to jockey down the side of a radical angle that was defended with loose gravel. Her heavy gun didn't help either, she erected it high up against her body as means to try and push herself straight down with its weight instead of forward.

In the countless battles she had been in, terrain like this was avoided at all costs. Cursing and slipping she regretted in preserving her life by being tedious instead of taking a chance and getting wasted by enemy troops in order to master sloped, heavily graveled terrain.

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The lapping shore of the pristine water appeared as an outdoor buffet to Noose's ravenous stomach. Falling to her knees, dropping her heavy gun without remorse, she struck her hands into the glass-like water. It didn't take long for her viper-like hands to lash out and grab something wet and flailing.

Her mind was consumed by animalistic lust to sink her bare teeth into fish and engulf its tender viscera. She did so, not being concerned with the barbaric parasites it might comprise within itself. It there was anything worthy of threatening her systems, the dozens of Order-made nano-medic-droids that she harbored in her all of her systems would dispose of it directly.

Her gnawing teeth and lashing tongue were hushed as a new, alien sound came from the north to bring her out of her beastly feasting and into a battle ready euphoria.

It was the sound of crashing, metallic based crashing. She wiped the fish entrails from her mouth, she flicked her hand in a behavior as to flick away her steeled composure as well as what became of the fish.

_No_…

Her head shook; she had left the two armies to do away with each other miles away. Her now heavy set brow and pulsing muscles demanded an answer from her in direction of the sound. Reluctantly she obeyed them.

Her movement and flexion were predatory-cat at the very least. With her gun at ease she moved on her feet like an invisible, inexorable force. She clung to the rocky wall that erected from all sides of the basin's rim to provide a sense of cover. Her breath was breathless but her heart beat strongly in her chest causing it to barrel slightly as a sign of dominance. Her frame felt heated in the mastery of compressing her anticipation.

The wall finally came to outward pointed corner. She pressed her back against it, a move that kept her alive 9 times out of 10 when in adversary territory.

Her head extended to curve around the corner at a snails pace, her eyes hardened, she was ready to react to what ever she saw. Her fingers flexed instinctively over the activated sensors of the Gatling Cannon's hand consol trigger pad.

She stood armed and ready to blast what ever she saw to pieces of smoldering ash.

Whatever she saw turned out to be nothing at all…

She didn't let her senses go so easily though, she held onto them with a tightly furled passion.

She fooled the rest of her brain into thinking that she was alright with finding nothing, but secretly she wanted this thing to reveal itself, and fast.

The thing that she secretly wanted declared itself above her after a lapse of seconds.

Her head crushed the lower portion of her cerebral cortex as it flung itself upwards into such a tight angle. The metallic crashing noise was just above her, perched in the surface of a facet of rock that pushed out wards to create a ledge. The sheer vibration of the crash was so pertinent it persuaded a thin layer of mud and rock micro-fragmentations to unlatch from the under belly of the ledge and sprinkle upon her. She squeezed her lids and brought up her free arm to duck from the dusty, fragment shower.

After the dust cleared she sprawled for the rocky terraces that were beyond the natural ledge. On reaching it she knew her impromptu choice was strategically sound, the rocky patterns would provide cover for her and an elevation which matched the mysterious ledge. She would be protected and granted the viewing rights of being able to see her enemy… _If the crashing was really of something that threatened her_!!! Her mind corrected her as she began to slink around the natural shields of rock the terrace provided.

_Probably just some eroding collisions, after all the rock around here had to be soft from all the water that seeped in and out of this place…_

First hand experience told her otherwise as a clumsy positioning of her gun into a trio of thin jutting points surmised that the rock around the area was anything but soft.

_Okay_…_ So it's not a natural eroding._

_Well there are other sane conclusions for the metallic crashing. _

……..

…………

A reasonable explanation held in reserve from revealing itself.

_You've probably finally gone over the deep end and lost it. And having nothing better to do with your unforeseen lunacy, you've thought of positive ways to utilize your spare time, like creating illusions in your head only to draw up your gun and chase after the intangible ghosts_…

"Enough…" She chewed out the voice that spontaneously birthed in her head.

_TK-Productionz:_

_Hey there, I hope you've enjoyed the story so far… This is one of my first independent pieces so I could really use all the reviews and criticism I can get…_

_P.S._

_I know it kind of starts really slow, but I am working to change that, I just really like to give my made up characters a very intense background. Its hard for me to just make someone up without describing them first._


	7. Chapter 7

A long metal hall curved like the track of a race course. Small orbs lithe hall with a decent illumination, leaving a black little bar in-between every 8 feet between the lights.

A continuous metal clank and trudging came from the connection of the very tip of a raptor's talon against the metal alloy floor.

In the decent light the tan stripes of the Utah raptor's brown skin changed to a white yellow at the passing of each light.

Its tail swayed gently, matching the contortions of its haunches as its legs advanced.

The gentle holes of its nostrils flared now and again, desperate to seek out particulates in the air that originated from a potential enemy. At the arrival of a new twist in the hall's curvature it responded in turning its head with each curve.

Through his eyes the mechanical visor protocols swapped at the pass of 7 lights.

First, normal vision; then thermo-scan, than electronic-anti thermo view. As each came up negative his throat gave birth to a low rattled purr, escaping through his scaled lips, sharp teeth and flailing tongue.

Above and to the left a light pound made its self known from inside a large cylindrical pipe, embedded somewhat into the adjoined point of the ceiling and wall.

The slight clanking of talons stopped and his tail thrashed quickly to compensate for the weight displaced of his body coming to a halt.

_Hrrr_…..

His rumble was well hidden by his flicking tongue, to prevent the possible foe from being alerted of his presence. His head turned slowly to examine a repeat of the sound from the thick pipe.

The raptor's lips mouthed a composition of syllables.

Suddenly its form contorted and segregated. The tan striped skin parted and then retracted into ports below thick layers of blue coated metal. The reptilian head unnaturally flattened and lowered onto the front of a chest shaped feature that appeared from the inner recessed of the dinosaur's body. Flattening into two sides the head was now a hide-based semblance of traditional chest armor. A helmet donned skull, the face covered in the exact same blue as the other metal that had appeared, rose out of a compartment located atop the humanoid torso. Bony arcs shot out of posterior partitions of its back and lower legs, bracketing its waist, rib area, and shins. The clawed legs of the raptor became its muscular, tan-striped arms. Lastly its tail shortened and became two tools that the feet, now turned into hands grabbed and held to protect its front.

_Hrr_… The angular face growled in the same manner of its previous raptor form.

It had red eyes, with a small circle of a brighter light within the red squares. The moved as he scanned the room, acting as artificial corneas. The same triple-change view system was installed within these new mechanical eyes.

Not being able to view through solid metal it cleared over to infrared, with armor piercing enhancement to scan clear to the other side of the metal piping.

Nothing, absolutely nothing was scanned.

He growled and switched it over to Electro-pulse, enhancing the X-ray variable up by 20.

Nothing…

Something slapped the outer spine that lined his back.

His Rotary-sword swung violently as he turned to greet the sudden force.

All that could be seen through the Electro-pulse vision was the glowing skeleton of the wall and electronic fascia stored behind it.

"Eyh!!" An accented wine close in auditory comparison to that of a New Yorker, came from below. Glancing down he saw the green, luminescent structures and mechanics of a fellow comrade.

"What the slag are you lookin' at Chopper-face..?"

If Rat-Trap; the little _wise-aft menace_ was considered a comrade to newly converted Maximals like Dinobot.

The hollowed head glared up at him while the green lines of his mouth drew a frown, further enhancing the rabbit like teeth that connected to the metal, upper lip.

Dinobot sighed, the red glow of his eyes turned off to register as eyelids closing. While his eyes turned off he switched his visual readout back to normal.

Reactivating his eyes he looked down at the copper and grey robot.

Rat-Trap was no longer a _Slag-eating Aft-port_ composed of green luminescent lines structuring around glowing, pulsating orbs and shapes. He was now a solid and colored, _slag-eating_, _aft-port_. Who at the moment seemed to be sizing him up with scrutinized red eyes.

"What the frag do you want mouse?" Dinobot hissed through white pointed teeth.

Rat-trap stepped back a bit, raising his arms in defense.

"Ey ease up on the Pred-tendencies chopper face… Optimus sent me out here ta get you."

Dinobot scowled , "Oh really? And why would he do that?"

Rat-Trap mirrored the scowl, "Pred activity's been on the high lately and he was hopin', you could lend a little advice ta what they could be up to."

Dinobot's slanted frown softened, "Oh…Well if that's the case tell him I'll be there in half a cycle."

He turned around and took two steps down the hall before an unknown object rebounded off his head while Rat-Trap unleashed a roaring, verbal assault against his back side.

"HALF A CYCLE!!!!"—"What am I..? You fraggin' messenger drone! You get your--"

HRRRAARGGH!!!!!!!!!

Dinobot turned around and lunged forward. His single clawed hand gripped the top of the Maximal's head, lifting him effortlessly and slammed him into the wall.

Rat-Trap recovered quickly and straightened in his stance, the hit was hard at least his CPU hadn't jarred, nor collapsed. He shook his head before glaring at the much taller bot.

"What the pits is your problem?!" He shouted taking a step forward to stand his ground.

Dinobot didn't look at him at first, instead his eyes were pointed at the round large pipe that halfway jutted from the wall. A small hole could be seen.

Hearing a slight mechanical noise of movement from the robot that stood several heads below him he looked down, drawing his face into a bitter twist of blue, barring his razor teeth. He whispered harshly.

"I was tracking something that had gotten into the base since this early mega cycle. It could be a Pred---that's gotten into the base, thanks to you!"

He lowered his upper half to look Rat-Trap in the visual receptors. The word _you_ ended with a sharp hiss out of his clenched teeth. "It got away…"

Rat-Trap smiled suddenly, a coy sense adding to the shine of his copper lips.

"Oh that thing you were trackin'…""Ya mean this?"

He raised an arm, between his index and his thumb was the hairless tail of a tiny, brown rat. It looked at Dinobot, squeaking pathetically.

He recoiled from the rat brothers; the feel of dirty defeat smothered his AI.

"Oh… So that's what it is." He turned before the victory smile of Rat-Traps face eternally burned its image in his core processor.

He raised his arms clenching his fingers. "Just what we need…. Another RAT."

Walking away he muttered a quick command and his form twisted and contorted until reducing back into a Utah raptor's appearance.

Rat-Trap smiled, "Besides." He conversed with the small rodent in his hand. "The only Pred I see is old Chopper-face…"

_TK-Productionz_:

_Sorry that this chapter's so short_… _Can't update more until I get more reviews_…

_In the next chapter I'm going to have a key for Cybertronian profanity_.

_Hope ya like what, cha read_…


	8. Chapter 8

_TK-Productionz:_

_Thank you so much for the review, I really thought that no one was interested in this story, I happily admit that I am surprised to see that there are quite a few who do._

_Like I stated in the last chapter I will have a Cybetronian profanity key:_

**FRAG:** _fuck_

**SLAG:** _shit_

**AFT:** _ass, aft facedass faced, aft portasshole_

**ROBOT WITHOUT AN ASSEMBLY LINE:** _bastard_

**PRIMUS FRAGGIT:** _goddammit_

_Enjoy!! And remember, please keep reviewing, I guarantee I'll update much faster with the more reviews I get and I'll be sure to thank everyone personally for their review._

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Her free hand scraped the fluctuating surface of rock. She could scale up the rock in half the time using her left arm. That would be both a convenience and a flaw to her constant plan of remaining alive. If thing, she had placed all effort in believing not to be real was in fact quite authentic; at least, enduring that her left arm remained holding the monstrous gun, she would be well equipped to deliver defensive firing against the possible threat having firepower at their disposal.

She glanced at the skinnier arm of her right side. At the shelf she had grasped its length was desperately stretched out, under the heavy layer of trip-polymer Kevlar the knuckles were white from the powerful grip.

Stupid arm…

Why had she never invested the time to make it as bulk and powerful as its butch sister?

Using her legs to support the total weight of body and gun she curved her back to lessen the dangerous tension that had formed in her arm. The motion forced out a lake of fluid and nitrogen that had over the duration of two months collected between the columns of L2 and L4. The sound was beyond belief, such a powerful noise it spread through a shallow depth of the canyon wall. It least her back felt lithe again, she had figured with all the metal straits and replacements received that somehow the metal pieces that were in place of bone had rusted together.

The strained arm jumped and grappled a flat post several inches above the hole it had previously clenched.

The jump itself had become a territorial gain, less than a foot up in achieved distance brought her head up high enough to scope out a small shelf.

She cocked her head to assure that her eyes had not formed astigmatism and shifted a simple shaping of rock into what her and her tried and damaged arm both secretly hoped for.

3 ft wide, 5ft in length, not a place for comfort or lodging, but it would do more than just suffice for a short rest.

The ground was miniature and had lost all definability of a mixed color scale.

40 ft up she began readying herself to launch both her and the 500 pound gun. Leveling up to 750 pounds in total that would be launched across a span of 3 feet in empty space.

She had done this once before, but that was in the middle of an escape from a mob of soldiers who had spotted her just as she set the 10 minute countdown on the 23 megaton bunker bomber that she had placed in the middle of their barracks. If of course, she had succeeded.

In ripping a good chunk of irreplaceable fascia from a the entire circumference of her shoulder joint and set her into a writhing mass of agony as her body was landed on its side, 20 feet below the explosion and the soon vaporized men above her. She had scaled a good 5 feet though… Most of the distance being achieved because adrenaline had worked its way into her system.

If she wanted to make it to the sweet little nook she would have to clear at least half of the distance she had cleared when her arm was ripped. Hopefully with the other advancements received after that day, this would be something in which she would fail to both, rip out the triple extension band support and anti-sublimation (dislocation) joint while her body descended forty feet down to nothing but hard rock to break her fall and most likely all the bones in her body.

Every joint and movable complex stiffened as she lowered the gun letting it hang. She loosened a bit when her arm began to swing the gun forcing her entire body's trajectory to swing in a stiff side to side motion, like a pendulum off its circular course.

With a strengthened grip she began to increase its sway. Each time bringing it closer and closer to the ledge.

"_ONE_!!!"

It was a few feet from the ledge.

"_TWO_!!!"

Inches from the rocky shelf…

"_THREE_!!!"

She grunted loudly and swung it into the shelf, bringing it into an ascending arc as she did so. The weaker arm and both feet unlatched from their posts, her left still clung to the flying gun with great self preservation.

Wide eyed but still composed in a stone faced manner her body flew to the left riding the projectory tail of the airborne weapon. It would be best to let it continue in its course, she let go of it, jerking her arm to push it forward, now free her eyes were un-living while her brain had less than a second to focus on where to grapple the shelf.

Her left arm shot out just as her descending body came short of being 2 ft inside the shelf. Against the intense pull of falling weight, her fingers desperately tried to imbed themselves into the thick, orange rock.

Her body jerked when she finally succeeded in stopping the deadly process.

The angle of her hand bent a little more than what would be an normal right angle, the edge she had grabbed boasted a fine deep groove in the top part of the edge.

Any normal arm would be horribly damaged in the socket, most likely ripped out completely from her weight + gun + supplies.

But this was Noose, her profession long ago demanded a complete modification of her body if she or anyone else who considered carrying a fortress leveling weapon around. Most of her left side was replaced with metal components, her arm for the majority, the fact that it took the full brunt of 500 pounds, not to mention the blasting capability, her sponsors had decided to remove all sense of bone completely and replace it with a fine indestructible collusion of titanium. The socket modeled after a hip joint but more capsulated, a super magnet lined both the greater tuberosity and the socket to ensure that her firing arm would never dislocate again.

Aware of the adrenaline soaked through her systems she smiled at the muscular arm.

_Thank the Order_…

There was one thing the Order could be redeemed for and that was its amazing prosthetics technology.

The muscles were more than able to lift her curved but lanky frame. Her body flung up at the slightest flick of her arm; using her free right arm she probed either wall for a grip.

The metal against stone sounded relative to nails on a chalk board, she quickly shifted in moving the thing, lifting it gently; she erected it on the end wall that brought the shelf into more of the form of a cubby hole.

Arranging her as best she could, her knees were drawn up at a drastic angle and bent to the point where a steady blood flow was not to be expected. She sat on a point above her gluteus, which currently positioned toward the backs of her legs, pressed against her heels.

The same crash, the one that had single handedly dragged her from her raw lunch, led her to the post then up the side of a canyon wall only to be squished between tow rocks sounded loudly and with profound appearance.

Her eyes flicked to meet to source at mid-duration.

Staring blankly, she refused to acknowledge what was seen.

Pear shaped, the acute point being its port. It looked like an abstract shaping of a cow skull, black flaps lining the port a few feet above its prone posterior. Against its general white coating, scars and rust were signs of its old age and rendering abuse.

_A spaceship_….A ship of space dynamic travel was before her. Trying to think logically she experimented with comparing it to the onyx, cylindrical craft both factions and she had originated from.

When she finally agreed with her psyche that the 2 were in no suit or nature to be alike she did the only thing she figured could work when soldiers experienced acute hallucinations.

She shut her eyes and spoke to herself.

"_Okay_, _Maybe I am beginning to lose it_…"

She recollected 2 general experiences of countless times she had been in the fray.

She had looked into the eyes of the person about to die by her hands many times, the bulging eyes, doe eyes, tearing eyes, rolling eyes, bleeding eyes; had never bothered her. The sound that came with snapping necks and limbs, cold steel purging through flesh and organs were sounds as common and mentally steadying as the gentle chortles of a babbling brook. When pursuers would not quit there were many times she had escaped them, sleeping under the stars using the fresh corpses of the nameless war as blankets. Death had barely cooled over that their empty body could still create a little heat.

Since age 13 the Order's extensive army had kidnapped her from placement in a rebel pack, stripped her of her identity and replaced it with that of Noose. In her first real battle at 17 all the grisly tendencies of battle had washed over her already empty husk. She was one of the few to survive the suicide mission and the only one without shell shock. Death was natural to her and common in day to day routine.

_So why now, in this place, far away from the battlefield, did she start to experience the tremors that everyone in her platoon had experienced for 22 years_?

"_Perhaps it is the abandonment of the battle that leads your mind to see that which does not exist_…"

The dictating voice was in her head and only half of her wanted to listen.

The other half was more preoccupied in checking that her legs were still pumping blood. Her defective nerves could only send electrical signals through the legs, thanks to the doctors that sponsored her wartime occupation, signals sent from the legs were found unachievable. Feeling of any kind, especially pain did not exist from the waist down.

The voice continued with half and audience. _After 22 years in which you have worked with minimum leisure and no vacation leave, your spry, battle toned body and mind hunger for that which 'livens' them._

She opened her eyes as the part of her mind, which seemed completely independent from the rest of her continued.

The spaceship still rested on a slant, impossibly balanced on the barely flat top of the two connecting arcs.

"_You should forget about the ship and return to the meaning less battle behind you. Run in, gun blasting, smash in a few faces. Break Radoslav's neck_…"

2 humanoid figures walked along the space of the ship's nose that floated in the air. Their protective armor flickered in the grand lighting of the sun over head.

"_What do we have here_…?" She leaned as much as her stiff legs would allow. Her eyes squinted.

At age 39 her eyes were decent, it was what was to be expected after looking straight into the flash of several incandescent grenades in the year

s of training during military school.

Her lips twitched a half smile, 'this would be something worth investigating.'

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Several near-falls down she circumducted her left arm slightly while shouldering the weight of her Gatling cannon. The joint was as stable as before. The curvature of her back could not be compared fairly to the joints of her shoulder. She decided to with the pain that arched laterally with the weight she carried.

Cracking it would be futile; finding a back route that lead to the very aft of the ship, the loud crack of her resetting her spine into place would rhetorically summon all the troops the ship harbored. She would be forced to infiltrate the ship hunched over and in pain.

_Oh well_…

She smirked stiffly, _It wouldn't be the first time_. She rubbed at the Tripolymer-Kevlar textiled into thin lines down her back. The thick armor did much to make the bump of her back much larger.

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The two Transformers were busy working the bottom entrance of the ship. Being in their robot forms they would have to be careful about the time spent outside. After the latest incident with the ship, the last thing they would need would be for one of them to go into stasis lock from prolonged energon exposure.

The tension cables of the prone entrance had given out after more than 5 Cybertronians had tried to use it all at once. Optimus would vow to help but since the broken depression elevator was the indirect result of the latest Predacon ambush, repairs would have to wait since the Maximal commander was currently searching the ship for monitoring devices or Pred-stowaways.

Rhinox had taken responsibility over repairs of the broken lift. It wasn't an exact necessity since Sentinel was back online, already repaired by the green, chief engineer and part-time medic, but it was more than enough of a catalyst for Rat-Trap's lashing tongue to engage and drive the second in command crazy until correction would be delivered.

Cheetor had opted to help, (secretly much to the senior officer's discontent); but Rhinox wasn't one to steal the young cadet's energon fuse so he directed the young bot over to the row of raw energon canisters.

The stock had been recovered at the last nano-cycle, another cycle and the predacons would have an extreme advantage for their armory.

He stood in the mouth of the depression tunnel, removing the cover shield, his arms were hinge deep in structural circuitry. The Axalon ship as they had only found out after crash-landing on this planet; was sturdy, powerful and greatly unpredictable.

Its gun turrets were powerful; had great range and accuracy. Unfortunately they only recently found out that they were unequipped with proper shock absorbers and recoil tension. With every Predacon attack that demanded the mobile guns to return fire; a progressive denting had begun to ripple the once flat surface of the ship's roof. Rust was a big thing to be concerned of since the planet condensated regularly.

Rhinox made it a top priority into his memory data banks; that on the arrival of their return to Cybertron; the first thing he would do is personally hunt down the merchant droid that sold them the ship. Grab him by his ankle joints and shake him up and down until every single one of their spent Cybertronian credits fell out of the droid's credit recesses and landed in a large pile on the floor.

Once getting back their wasted money he might want to remove all independent circuit programs form the droid's conscious hard drive…. After wading through an entire barrier of unnecessary insulation, feather alloy and constricting structural brackets that suddenly appeared between his fingers and stop his hand form moving any further; he found the tension cables.

Or at least the _top_ portion of cable…

The part he really needed to find was at the level of his knee caps, behind layers of vexing vestigial, mechanical fashia and a solid metal plate.

If it wasn't for Sentinel online; he might as well lay out a welcome mat in front of the step pad that said: TAKE OVER MAXIMAL SHIP HERE. In big, bold writing.

His agitation grew as the young bot assisting, _who seemed to have no cautionary circuits installed, which did not put a mental limit on what he could do_, from what Rhinox could tell, continued in placing the 2nd in command's nerves on the edge of oblivion.

Every 5 micro-cycles or so; a loud crash echoed through the canyons as the spry, somewhat micro-sized-core-processor cadet tried to move the energon holding stocks that were twice his weight.

His hand withdrew from a nasty static shock originated from the over assimilation of feather alloy. A nano-cycle later a loud crash sounded right outside of the metal platform Rhinox was standing in.

Reacting in a normal fashion he popped up from his knees and banged the back of his head on a horizontal bar that kept the tunnel's cylindrical shape. As an added shot to his spark the curved horn of his alternate form had imbedded itself into the outer rim of metal coating, trapping him in the inner wall of the tunnel.

Tired, irritated and now stuck; he battled hard with his mouth to keep the energon curdling profanity from slipping past his lips.

"F-phh… FRAGGIN'! Slag… Aft-faced, ROBOT WITHOUT AN ASSEMBLY LINE!! PRIMUS-FRAGGIT!!!!"

Some one came behind him and laughed whimsically while trying to force the horn back from where it had protruded through the wall.

"Hey sorry Rhinox, guess I scared ya…" Cheetor's voice came from behind.

Free from his prison he stood up and faced the young cadet.

The frightened expression Cheetor displayed was enough to inform him of the stern look of anger that latched to his face in result of being stuck. Wiping it off quickly he explained himself.

"Sorry if I look a little steamed but…"

Cheetor cut him off, "you're just mad because this ship's a piece of junk."

Rhinox shook his head at the restrained use of wording Cheetor used to describe the _totally-fragged_ ship. Especially after his stream of obscenities the young crew mate had undoubtedly heard.

He sighed, "yeah… You got that right."

Cheetor eyed the intricate netting of laced metal.

"Wow… Never knew the elevator lift had so many intricate parts. – Can I help?"

His yellow optics gleamed.

Fearing the worst from the young bot's assistance; the kid didn't know a flexion hinge from a particle accelerator.

"Um… Why don't you finish carrying those energon stocks over here. After all… We can't continue to fuel the Axalon without them."

Cheetor glanced at the 4 remaining stock barrels. He tested his arms and the strained joints of his digits. After carrying 2 of the stocks the 25 foot distance he was already regretful of ever asking Rhinox if he needed assistance.

"Well if they're so important why isn't Rat-Trap out here to help? Where's Dinobot?"

Rhinox made a disgruntled sound and sifted through his tool canister for a high malleability wire fusion set.

"I don't know…" He adjusted the flame's setting on the cable fine torch rod. "I do know that Optimus wants to speak to Dinobot…Alone."

The young bot listening heard the last statement and his mouth dropped open, dangling at the Maxilla hinges.

"Oh no…. Why?! What did he do…?"

The wiser bot waved off his building concern, "It's nothing serious Cheetor; Optimus just wants some more insight into what Predacon nature is."

The young bot ruffed and slowly walked back over to the energon stocks.

Rhinox watched him, practically seeing the disappointment of continued labor radiating off his gold and blue chassis.

He turned the gas feed adjust of the torch all the way to the right, the extended flame died. Visually retracting into the hole of the small pipe.

"Here, let me help you with those stocks…"

Cheetor smiled pretentiously, "What about the elevator lift?"

Rhinox's green eye ridges furrowed drastically while his red optics dimmed enough that only the small lights that made his pupils appear, his lips sneered to show rounded, white metal teeth, "Oh _Frag_ the elevator lift!!"

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Its amazing how many catchy tunes a person's mind can create while sitting behind cover of a rock at 2/3's of the way up, for 4 hours waiting for activity to die down.

She was creating a beguiling tune for the AIDS mutagen, when finally, a lack of sound washed of its counter part.

Standing up from the hard rock, her ass felt cold beneath the expensive insulation material and Kevlar fire retardant. Well is radiated cold to the small of her back, the last point of the downward path of her body that could feel anything.

_Must be from a loss of circulation_…Oh well, parasthesis was overrated any way, even if it was a great signal that blood was no longer being fed to her lower half.

The terrain was far more leisurely that the vertical length she scaled before, still very steep she at least did not strain hard to find places to latch onto.

She stopped dead in rebounding jumps and vicious climbing as a strange blast came from above. She held perfectly still and stared at the rock that created the edge of the flat ledge. A small puff of black smoke stretched out into the sky, quickly turning grey and then invisible.

From within the dual cockpit deck and advisory room the two Maximals jumped out of their seats.

"What the slag was that!?" Cheetor's gut-gun, as he so visually had dubbed it, was already drawn and cocked.

Rhinox stood at the glass and metal panel that would slide to open to the elevator shaft. To its confounded nature the glass looked fuzzy and dark.

On opening the door he found out why the glass looked so opaque; thick smog, tall and as wide as the green and brown, half Rhino-bot quickly engulfed him and began to spread.

An electrical and residue buildup up blowout had just occurred, the elevator shaft's working systems had not been cleared out in several quantum-giga-cylces.

Cheetor, gun still cocked, gently moved the firearm into the direction where Rhinox had once visibly existed.

"Uh. Rhinox?"

He feared the worst figuring the outcome of slackened maintenance to instead appear as the first sign of a sudden Predacon ambush.

"What tha pits is goin' on in here..?" A small copper and grey bot entered the chamber.

"RAT-TRAP!!! I think the Predacon's have entered the base, they've got Rhinox!!!"

As if on cue; Rhinox's profound whiskey voice conjured somewhere in the thick smoke that remained in massive composite around the elevator's door. "I'm fine… and" He coughed disruptively. "There's no Predacons from what I can tell."

He entered from the smoke; Cheetor was relieved to see him again but even more to see that the smoke had begun to die.

Rat-Trap eased up and rested an arm on the closest chair head board. "So? Still gonna find that merchant droid when we get back to Cybertron…?"

Rhinox's expression hardened, he suddenly pieced together the unexpected blowout of ship's elevator to the copper bot's system of doing tasks that were assigned to him.

"Yeah but the first thing I think I'm gonna do is assign someone else to clean up mechanical systems."

The big bot crossed his green metal and artificial Rhino skin arms and glared down at the littler mech leaning on the chair with a disapproval air. "How long has it been since you last cleaned the feed dogs on the elevator lift Rat-Trap?"

His energon composite chambers began to curdle and churn, but he didn't let Rhinox or Cheetor see the discomfort of persecution appear on his face.

"Long enough…. I guess."

Rhinox decided that he had done enough to try and prevent the inevitable death of the Axalon's lowering dock and decided to retreat to his quarters.

He turned before reaching the pressure close door connecting to the barrack hall.

"You have no idea, and yes I full well plan on finding that merchant and giving him a piece of my mind," He raised a shiny, green fist; snapping the joints of his digits that connected to his carpal palmaris. "A nice hard part of my mind right into his face…"

_Disclaimer…crap: DON'T OWN BEASTWARS, I do happen to have the entire 3 seasons on dvd, for very cheap pricing, thank you _


	9. Chapter 9

_TK-Productionz:_

_Sorry for such a long wait… I hope that the length of this chapter will let my readers know how soory I am for making them wait._

_I just wanted to get to the part where Noose finally meets the Maximals, at least one of them anyways…_

_Like I had in the last chapter here's a Cybetronian profanity key:_

**FRAG:** _fuck_

**SLAG:** _shit_

**AFT:** _ass, aft faced-- ass faced, aft port-- asshole_

**ROBOT WITHOUT AN ASSEMBLY LINE:** _bastard_

**PRIMUS FRAGGIT:** _goddammit_

And here is a Cybertron Chronological Key for time references:

NANOCYLES: seconds

MICROCYLES: minutes

MEGACYCLES: hours

GIGACYCLES: days.

_Enjoy!! PLEASE KEEP REVIEWING!!! It just so happens that I found out his weekend that I am a acute review whore and in order to reverse the homicidal effects my mind commits on innocent card-board cut-out people I need as many reviews as possible._

"I think I'm gonna take a rest too. After carrying all that recovered energon back up here it feels like my arms are gonna fall off." Rubbing his shoulder joint, Cheetor followed Rhinox to the door.

Rattrap twirled his optics, "Fine… I guess I'll watch the ship while you two catch up on ya beauty sleep."

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The sun had already begun to elope with the dense forest horizon and small sets of mountains before Noose deemed it safe to begin to climb over the ledge.

Her guns profound weight now felt necessary in the absence of shielded terrain. Surveying the view with a steady eye, no thing visible was untouched by her gaze. Scanning no visual threats she observed the ship in its alien beauty.

Though profoundly battered the fact that it still remained standing impressed her, in some obscure way her and the ship were possibly alike, they both had stood to stand the tests of time, they both were strong but not exactly visibly strong from the observer's eye and both were amazingly fucked up from top to bottom.

_Now this might be something worth risking her life over instead of dodging bullets in the mindless fray left behind her._

Spotting a strange flicker in the air she stepped back a few feet. Absently she kicked herself for not testing the ground for land mines before stepping back even further when a trick of the eye prompted her to retract even more to better see the mirage.

The air around the ship arched into a huge dome rippling gently like the surface of water. The light danced atop it and a 3 dimensional effect birthed from the increased distance, from up close, away from the drifting light of the setting sun it appeared as nothing more than a simple rise of heat. Though the movement and overall effect appeared watery its sheen swirled and condensed in multiple colors like soap or gasoline. The overall effect was in fact, to the absent part of her mind…

_Quite pretty_.

To the very much present representative of her brain such manipulations of light ad air could mean only one thing.

"_Okay_…" She thought. "_Some kind of force field_?"

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After applying a decent amount of lubricant to the crunched joints Cheetor felt astoundingly better; but only in a physical aspect.

The fact that the door to the ship was now completely scrapped and wide open bothered him greatly. Plus the terrain surrounding the ship worked little to boost his confidence program.

The fact of his newfound paranoia resulted from what he discovered a few Giga cycles ago. He spotted a perfect, nature made slope from behind the ship, it was hidden in the vertical faces of the cliffs surrounding them. He investigated the optical lure at moment's impulse to certify if it was not a simple trick of the rock facing.

Scaling it easily, reaching the flat floor that supported the base in a matter of micro-cycles he found himself correct standing at the very aft of the ship eyeing a regretful looking hollow in the chassis. Instead of alerting Optimus he had sought out Rat-Traps advice; who at the time was immensely imbedded in his own dealings to care what the whimsical youth had to say.

The inner turmoil referred into his joints; agitating the young bot into a further dwelling of frustration while he contemplated the mistake of his discovery.

Sick of being made of metal he decided to have his mechanisms repaired internally while he roamed on all fours still continuing his self debating analysis.

The crossed Cheetah limbs that decorated the upper quadrant of his back rotated forward as his upper body leaned towards the ground. His head withdrew into an inner cavity of his chest and his sentient limbs began to encircle his thorax. The flattened cheetah head that decorated his chest as spotted plate of armor detached while reforming into the shape of a head slid between the rotating limbs of his back. A synthetic fur covering un-scrolled from compartments in his chest and back to cover and craft the new desired form his body was collapsing to physically achieve. A tail sprouted and unfurled as did a second set of legs to meet the posterior of the new form.

Now fully transformed he stood on a clawed set of four legs; a real, spotted cheetah.

He turned his head to the eye the interior of his room from the new perspective of the fast cat. It was not much of an optical change but things were definitely placed at a higher level due to the fact being on all fours lowered his scale to 3-4 feet tall. The small slope that connected to the back of the cliff they were stationed on prodded at him again, as did a murmur from his irritated joints now within the thorax of his alternate form.

_This is something I've gotta tell Optimus_…. He thought, his head nodded in agreement with him, so he exited his personal quarters.

The hall was a short distance to Optimus's chamber. The room and hall that connected to it signified the aura of the leader's fresh position as adventure chief and captain; open and genial.

Arching onto his hind legs he pressed the call button located on the frame of the pressure slide door. It slid open in a nanocycle, chilling the energon circuitry all throughout the bot's systems. Dinobot was behind the door, 2 inches before the slide route of the frame indented into the floor.

He stepped out looking as agitated as to be expected from the cranky, seasoned warrior. His talons clanked on the floor as he passed the cheetah, not even sliding a glance at the young bot. Cheetor ducked when the tail of his raptor form made a great sway in compensation of his moving weight. He dared not to look at the prone of Dinobot's body, holding a small sense of discomfort that the vicious bot had implanted optics into the back of his helmet and would surely meet the cadet's offending gaze with a rupture to the young bot's inner circuitry. His head peered into the open frame, nothing was visible from his vantage so he finally decided it better to get his meandering over with and just go inside.

The quarters were spacious in comparison to his own, but not by much. The enlargement in area happened to be only in part for the section equipped with a leisure table to discuss private matters. The purpose for Cheetor's entrance into the room in the first place.

"Um… Hey Optimus?!"

Not wishing to posess a lock of etiquette programming he called into the quarters.

A voice, not young or old but a fine melted collusion of both answered him; the source of the followed soon after.

Out he came from behind a corner, robot mode.

The synthetic parts of Gorilla that were the makeup of his alternate form caressed and flowed with the mechanical components. Unlike the other Maximals, in which the alternate animals parts clung to their backs, torso's and other portions of their bodies like utility packs; his seemed to mesh with him, making him neither robot nor animal but a creature that was both and exceeded the very essence of the two. His arms were actually Gorilla arms covered in _Synthoid_ fur and dermis. His legs, his shoulders and various patches of his chest and back were all synthetic fur lined. As for the parts that were not, his prontal arms and thighs were a smooth structure of bone-white, red disks created circles that expressed a curved musculature out of the solid metal portions of his arms. His head was entirely robotic and humanoid; it would appear in its navy coloring displaced were it not for several other visible places of navy metallurgy on his body.

His optics were red, similar to Dinobot's optics in the image that both were colored a passionate crimson-burgundy with a pink light to show their pupils; but they were obviously different in shape. Optimus's eyes were longer than wide coming to pints at both medial and lateral ends giving them the effect of a vigorous but wise leader. His helmet being a more grayed blue in comparison to the healthy blue of his face, a roman arc lined and stood in the middle of the top, a trapezoid stopped the arc and rested at the ridge of the helmet's frontal edge. Bladed wings were in the form of crescents on either side of his cranial, audio systems. Visibly without a nose or a chin, a bar of white metal covered his nasal and maxilla quadrants, the two white bars could come together to form a mask that covered his nose and mouth, a sign that was significant of leadership that his face could be masked in certain dire straits at will's notice. Its ability give the leader a complexity of incybertronian (inhuman) impassiveness that made enemies tremble and inspired his own troops in the brunt of battle. Of course it was never used for such purposes until just recently, a short time after pursuing the Predacons, Optimus had become a real leader for a time of war.

This was Optimus Primal, leader of an independent Maximal exploration team who had stumbled upon the budding of a new Predacon uprisal and plan for totalitarianism of a prehistoric planet. He was a good friend who held a decent reputation of leadership with his crew.

He looked down at Cheetor, the young cadet would have felt inferior the gaze received had it been anyone else in the position of Chief Commander.

"Optimus I need to speak with you."

The older bot quirked an eyebrow, the worry that crossed the cat's whiskers made his spark clench.

"Alright…" He sat down in a chair next to the discussion table.

Cheetor, refusing to revert back to robot mode until his arm joints sang a sweet tune of contentment instead of the sour base of discomfort they played inside his hollow cavity, jumped onto the table and set himself into a half laying half erected position on the flat of the table.

Optimus's eyes slit momentarily at the young bot's stubbornness but returned to normalcy due to the still cemented look of concern on Cheetor's feline face.

"Alright…" The tone of the word carried the last sharp scrap of his sudden annoyance but the words that followed were relaxed and focused. "What seems to be on your mind?"

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To test the force filed, if it really was a force field, not a domed motion detection lazer, she picked up a decent sized rock. The stone's length exact to her foot's measurements.

She stopped in mid-recoil of processing to throw it.

_Would that be a good idea_?

The part of her mind that believed it to be a motion detection unit elaborated an advanced picture simulation of what would happen if the rock flew through and breached the laser's total covering space. Most likely a battery of troops would come forth and start shooting, not that they would really strike as a force of adversity against her. Against the Gatling Cannon, she surmised the end result would be a simple fact that she'd finally get some action in and wouldn't be satisfied until each one littered the ground, no longer in one piece, their bodies would be reduced to bite sized, sizzling portions. A true aftermath of the explosive sub-nuke power her equipment and skills could produce.

_But what if it wasn't for detection? What if it was for immediate elimination, or a solid barrier?_

She lowered the rock, feeling defeated by her confounded conscious thought. She would have to wait and think this out before her exploration could continue.

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'So you think there's something wrong with our defense grid..?"

Optimus said the accusing question with a relaxed air; the last thing he would want to do is discourage a young officer from stating an invisible problem. He did manage to keep intent in a subtle thread in his voice a trick he learned from previous role models that had a subsequent and secret effect that brought the people being questioned to refer to truth if they were not already stating it.

Cheetor's tail flicked indecisively, "Well I'm not saying that it is but…"

He saw the quirked brow on Optimus's face.

"There's this space… In the canyon wall," he elaborated the description with his paw waving through the air. "Its hidden from over head view and from strait ahead. It connects to the back part of the ship where there's this really big hole in the engine deck. And… I know that Sentinel covers all around the ship but I'm worried that something else could get in."

"Like what?"

The cheetah raised his shoulders, "Like…." He looked up at the ceiling but found his amswer by unconsciously noticing one of his paws. "Like an animal."

Primal opened his mouth to speak but the young cheetah was as verbally fast as he was physically and cut him off before he could state the obvious of animals not being a threat or nuisance to their cause.

"Well I'm just curious because with the old hole in the ship and now the elevator is open and broken…"

Optimus's optics flared and widened slightly in realization, "Our ship could become a nest real quick…"

"So the energo-dome doesn't block out living creatures, just Predacons…" Cheetor deduced.

Optimus shook his head, yet another problem to add to the growing list storage he had inserted into his core conscious data connectors.

He stood up form his chair, his transistors whined quietly. "I better go, I promised Rhinox that I'd help once I was done looking for Pred spy-cams." He creased his brow and gave Cheetor a small smile, "I'll look into increasing the energy signature awareness programming of the energo-dome after we figure out how to replace the damaged parts of the elevation pad."

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Every direction she led her mind in the destination always came to: _do nothing_, _don't proceed_, and her personal favorite, _it's too dangerous._

She wished she could smack that part of her mind for the last statement, she refused to fear things just for the simple fact that it could be feared, somewhere in the more recent years of her career that part of her mind became its own independent entity and in becoming independent it developed into a coward.

She finally gave up on her will to listen to it and lifted the rock.

From above her head a piercing screech shot through her ears, the very drum of the passages shook as if in the thrall of a earth quake. She half-ducked as the hawk passed, a few feet above her head. Angling with the wind and to avoid the giant ship it slanted to a down right curve and followed a down current of heat which made a small cord between the ship and the towering canyon wall. The move brought it straight into the domed hologram and brought it out of the dome in a sharp upward slant. Its exit was without a single charring nor disruption of even one of its feathers.

She rolled her shoulders, _if a bird could pass through without being incinerated then so could she._

She eyed a rather large hole in the aft of the ship that lay behind the shimmering air, and then proceeded to tramp through the light display.

It flared over her quickly, opening her eyes, she looked at the ship, nothing had changed, not its color nor the heavy external abuse.

The epidermis and dermis of the ship held far more structural deep material than what would be feasible. Her first step in brought her right foot resting on the border edge of the wall. Adjusting her weight, the foot on the edging of the wall shat through what she had first figured to be solid. She glared down into the hole her foot was buried in.

Upon further inspection of the grabbed clump of material in her gloved hand turned out to be of a material unknown to her and most scientists she had the ill pleasure of associating with on a daily basis. Metal certainly appeared to be the element of the material's composition, but how fragile and cotton-like it was and yet; her digit jerked back in response to pain. She eyed her thumb to see a small rivulet begin to pump out of an unseen hole in the Kevlar; so less cotton and so more of the qualities of a needle. She frowned at her foot and the lower half of her leg now buried in the puncturing stuff.

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Rat-Trap relaxed in the command chair, his legs resting on the control panel. Arms crossed behind his head; his optics were shut off while his mouth mumbled subconscious dialogue of imaginings direct from his core conscious released into the world of dreaming.

The overview of the ship and general surroundings were in grid format on the ship's monitor. A radial line traced around all the images on the screen, its point started in the middle of the superior profile of the ship and swiped clockwise around the screen, with every full circle completed a minute beep could barely be perceived.

Suddenly a tiny yellow dot appeared in the scan right next to the butt of the ship. A square zoomed out from the dot enlarging to fit in the middle of the screen. A hollow schematics gave a rough 3-D image of what would appear as an alien-manufactured firearm. The computer concluded it as a threat and began to unknown on the entire screen.

Rat-Trap remained asleep. Always stuck with boring surveillance duty, he found immunity to the boredom through napping which in turn produced an immunity to the computer board's moderate volume klaxon. Remaining in a heavy state of his 'Rat-Nap'; no one else was around to react. The mild alarm continued, klaxon still pulsing the annoying beep.

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She was near to the ship's engines, the large black room and giant generators. The sound projected created a dome of white noise around her. The effect of shadow; except for the neon purple and blue that created lines around the room, tracing the face of the large horizontal cylinders and over powering sound did well to retract her senses from the reality ahead of her. _But then again the entire situation was far more away from reality than what was thought to be established_.

She remained walking through the rocket chamber of an alien spaceship, the technology was like nothing even resembling the Order's great achievements in science. She had traveled through time to get here, walked straight though a domed hologram and best of all, she had seen the aliens, (from a far off distance) but she had seen them.

_Reality at this point was a silly concept best left for dead._

What looked to be a symmetrical indent in the wall happened to be a door… Drawing within a few feet she stiffened momentarily as it slid into the confines of the wall with and obnoxious hiss.

Spotting the beginnings of a hallway she quickly broke from her stiffness and proceeded through the trapezoid opening. It was poorly lit, a good sign for her and her obscene weapon, intruders that were stolling into a very deep part of the ship were less likely to see her in such conditions. She flaunted the darkness wearing it like a heavy cloak around her.

The sound of her boot treads tapping on the steel floor shot pangs up the length of her spine, walking with a prowess a ghost would envy it did nothing to prevent the horrible sounds that came with having a metal interior flooring.

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If the last random shot from Terrasaur hadn't shot him into a first degree stasis lock, Dinobot would surely been able to prevent the latest damage to the ship. The meeting with Optimus reactivated the memory, placing the seasoned warrior into a further livid setting of emotion composure.

He clattered down the hall, his talons lacerating the flooring with every step.

_He needed to find something to shoot_…

Unfortunately for him but fortunate in referral to Rat-Trap's continued well being, the oversized vermin was no where to be found, aft-wise.

He snorted, "Probably staying as far away from me as possible…"

The imagery of the little rat's head being ripped off and put on a plate warmed his spark.

If there was one thing a Transformer should never do; if they want their spark to remain undistinguished, it would be to never harbinger a task or duty that called for Dinobot's assistance.

The lighting appeared exceptionally bad as his path continued toward the engine chambers.

The place was a selected guarantee to the mech that disturbance for the most part did not exist when he traveled to that part of the ship.

For comfort his room would be the more suitable alternative but its location held a weakness, he could be summoned from his meditation and practice at nano-cycle's notice. The core focus of his daily ritual would be lost with the simplest of physical notions, like a knock on the door.

The place itself retained far more room to better suit the violent swings of his rotary sword and martial art.

Even before entering the hall that lead straight to the engine chamber he couldn't help his mind from plunging into a sea of focus and battle standard tactic. His eyes closed to welcome the onslaught of imaginable foes becoming tangible in his mind's eye. No longer were his talon equipped feet treading on crude felt metal but delicate crisps grass and moist earth. His little Raptor arms drew out in front of him in relaxed like fashion as his body began to slow its treading pace to a in relaxed like fashion as his body began to slow its treading pace to a gentle trudge.

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She couldn't believe it…..

In all her years, in all the sessions of war-business, she had never exactly witnessed the thing that now approached her.

She traveled on several dealings with opposing forces to the time of the Prehistoric age; she had fended her flesh from a hungry one three times before. Never, ever had she traveled to the pre-Holocene period, found a crashed alien spaceship in the middle of nowhere; only to find it was filled with animate dinosaurs. Chronological beings that in this period of time were rhetorically dead for at least a million years.

Stepping back, she fought hard to not make a sound. Improbably it didn'thear her and for a better amount of improbability it see her either.

She counted the steps one by one as she retracted back from the very real, carnivorous Utah raptor that was less than 15 feet in front of her. She held her gun out in front just to be sure, but hesitated to fire unless it noticed and charged her. The last thing she would want to do to complicate her little exploration was to resort to leveling the ship entirely in result of more possible carnivorous lizards responding to the loud blasting her gun would create.

She reached a count of thirty before realizing after the fact that the door she entered from was equipped with a motion sensor; and, for the situation right now, the door could be very loud.

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A very familiar hiss sounded down the way to his little spot of self practice.

Now normally, if it was anyone else, they would have simply figured it to be one of the crew; but this was Dinobot. The Predacon converted to Maximal, a feisty, trust no one, meticulous warrior and being said warrior he knew where every crew mate was positioned because knowing where everyone is means he always stood ready to perceive a Predacon infiltration of their base.

His eyes opened just as the shadowed invader reared up its head to stare.

For a moment… Nothing existed; just the two looking at each other, they were equal and in both something reflected off the other that both saw at once.

Then the fires that blazed inside one another became stationary and froze into icy pillars that filled the entire hollow of their souls, creating solidity within both that officially declared them complete to battle.

It was now a standoff, a standoff of who would make the first move, who would meet death by the other's stained hands.

Much to his surprise and that of her own, the one with the powerful gun broke first; turning tail and dashing through the mechanical doors.

Glancing along the large glowing engines she found a not too obvious crack of space within the places of the large cyllendrical engines.

She dove for it, her body squeezing in fine but her gun stuck out rather obviously.

Her mind was about to ridicule her for the withdrawal but she silenced it with the image of the creature's harsh slit eyes. Not most creatures, not most men had given her the look of battle ready intent the raptor had formed over its face, it stirred her mind and made her loose remembrance of the large weapon in her possession, she had resorted to a less direct method that required her clever intellect to defeat the creature; a move she did not like to perform very often.

She heard the pressurized hiss of the door, its sound more resembled to a coward like a death bell tolling for their soul.

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He thought his nose would perceive the threat, but the creature was obviously very sneaky and cowardly to seek cover in an engine bay. Nothing could be smelt above the aroma of burning fermented energon and the red hot smell of metal operating. The light didn't so much to aid in his favor of optical search.

He would find it though; by eye, nose or ear and then he would battle it either by tooth and claw or sword and optic lasers.

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Out of the several dinosaurs that she had escaped and fought, this one had to be the smartest.

She was smarter...

She abandoned her gun and retracted into the space. To her luck, a small enough space between the 2 cylinders held her body with little to no pressure or wedging. The two operating were dangerously heated; but aside from her head most of her body wore the Tri-ploythane Kevlar, fire retardant like a second skin. Scaling the space between the two to the open space at the top her hair began to mat to her skull as her head, uncovered, reacted normally to the heat.

Not atop the right engine she watched silently as the rator paced towards were she purposely abandoned her gun.

_NOW_!!! Her mind screamed, her legs swung out in momentum to launch herself into the air in a jump set to land on top of the creature.

By the time Dinobot had broken his stare at the huge alien weapon at the sudden intuition he had to peer up, it was too late. The intruder had escaped him using its own weapon as a ploy to lure him.

Its weight wasn't crushing but it certainly retained a mass nowhere near light.

It collapsed to the ground under her descending weight. Inactive she took no chances on presuming its state or lack of being. Sitting on its shoulders she reached with both hands and grasped its head. Its snout in her left hand and the back of its head roughly clenched by outstretched fingers in her right. The movement was quick, rotating her shoulders and torso; a loud snap boomed from its neck, its head flailed slightly upon hitting the floor.

She reclaimed her gun, staring down at it she was more than tempted to mouth a sorry for abandoning it, even if it was momentarily and just a gun.

She glanced back at the lit hollow from whence she had first entered.

_Nah_….

She thought.

Chronologically it would be wiser to further inspect the ship, see if there were more dinosaurs, but most importantly, if she continued through the ship she would meet her theory of the ship being/not being a historical danger.

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Dinobot illuminated his optics; the creature had stunned him, but seemed to have not committed any real damage to him.

Upon standing his head fell and dangled lethargically against his chest. He stared down at his clawed feet, _Ok_… _maybe it did do some damage to him._

The cervical columns of his alternate form were dislocated, thus the cause of his head's pendulum state. Using the scrawny arms endowed by the raptor physique it turned out to be a minor struggle to set the joints in place.

He snarled in confusion, _the creature had him, it had him and decided to let him go._

Obviously this creature did not identify as a Predacon; that or it really needed to learn a thing or two about diffusing its enemies.

He glanced at the door leading out, _how did it get into the base? And why was it here?_ He remained in beast-form and charged through the door.

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She managed to retain a prowess of silence while treading down the hall. Before, to remain silent, she attempted to force her body into such a state or rigidity her movements would be so restrained it, theoretically, would be impossible to commit an audible sound. It worked but the overall process took more energy that what was needed. Instead as a conservative approach to self energy efficiency she decided this time to make her body as fluid and tranquil as possible with carrying a huge weapon on one side.

She saw the face of another door when her senses discerned the presence of something approaching from behind in fast pace.

The motion, literally nothing for her after doing every battle, every ambush and war, she lost count of how many times she did it. Like a switch flipped her entire form spun around, large gun shouldered fingers creased over the touch pad trigger.

The creature stopped dead in its tracks, crescent talons lacerating the floor upon the sudden halt.

She did not move, her gun pointed dead center to the creature's thorax. Though deceased to the concept of motion she quirked an eyebrow.

Her training; being the best the academy had tried to convince her, refined her trigger skills, aiming and reflexes to the utmost of perfection. Meaning there, delicately placed within her brain a nice little pocket had formed to create a time limit and variable producing reaction protocol to approaching targets. Within 2 to 1 seconds her mind could discern and weed out whether the approaching were going to stop; realizing they were about to face off against a gun that easily leveled buildings, liquefying steel and vaporizing concrete. Or they were so cerebrally dimmed by the battle that they would foolishly keep charging her.

Apparently the raptor could discriminate between foe and prey quite easily for it stood for feet away, standing as stock still as a marine.

She faced raptors before, once or twice. The species itself gained an all out approval and status on her list of honored adversaries. The creatures were by far the smartest of all Jurassic species. But this… This was not happening.

Not only did the creature recognize the power of a gun then put tat recognition to self preserving use; but suddenly…

The facade of the creature dissolved all together to reveal something sentient and vicious.

Its red eyes flashed green; a bolt of energy came forth in 2 straight parallel lines that connected with the gun and her hand. The cannon jumped from her hand and thudded on the ground in a small explosion.

She stared at her hand and watched the transparent line of smoke rise from it, it twitched in pain as the small cloud dissipated. The appendage, for the most part remained attached to her and intact, just moderate and severely burned.

The pain that would come from it would have to wait as adrenaline pulsed through her veins. The thing fired repeatedly, its firing stimulated when it noticed her turning around to grab the cannon that rested 3 feet away.

It was no use, the gun would have to be abandoned; she realized this as one particularly placed blast to her legs sent her forth towards the creature.

She rolled away, a good distance that gave her a moment. Now the thing that separated her from her gun no longer presented itself as simple distance but distance with a hideous creature next to it.

She stole the abrupt lance of pain and boiled it into her battle power.

The burned hand fisted tightly with her body, she jumped to her feet and charged the thing. A surprise offense is not only the best defense but also the best way to prevent a crazy looking creature from receiving the upper hand.

Drawing out a standard blade, her right drew it in an outward arc across the thing's throat. In the dimmed light her eyes disbelieved the sparks that rose from its path against its neck. Her toasted left hand followed instantaneously drawing back and shooting forth against the thing in an uncounted number, forcing its body to fling backwards as its legs staggered against the incredible strength of her left's punching power.

She shoved its body against the wall and drove the blade chest deep, realizing the creature of sentient classification, but not of organic composition.

She noticed the shine of its metallic face in the dim light and for what she could not account it became the last thing she saw for five minutes. A tremendous current flowed through the metal blade, then into her, contorting her body to convulsions of excruciating pain.

Apparently this creature, though somewhat stupid to use such a small metal weapon, was more of a warrior that the credit he gave it. It managed to strike him repeatedly and stand its own against him and eventually corner him into submitting, unfortunately it was stupid for thinking that such a puny weapon could have done him in. Plus it appeared that electricity was not its strong suit, he noticed the pulled expression on its face and the bared teeth.

It wouldn't honorable to watch it die this way, an honorable death could only be created in battle.

Raising his reptilian arm, he back fisted it, the only way to successfully segregate it from the flood of electricity of his system into its own.

Next thing she knew; (she had long since gone consciously absent when the continuous flow of electricity over took her), she felt the floor on her back and a present smell of burned hair wafting through the air around her head. Hearing a snarl her mind clicked back to the situation at hand.

She sprang to her feet and leapt back to seeing the creature proceeding slowly forward. Her breathing remained deep and steady against her racing heart and shaking/clenched appendages directed from the ghost jolt her body still experienced after the electrocution.

The creature stood still when she eyed it.

It drew itself back into a staggered battle stance, her lip twitched in disbelief, it wanted to spar with her.

Unfortunately she was not in as much of a sparring mood in comparison to the homicidal desires she leaned toward in irritation to the unexpected shock his electrical body had put her in.

More off, at this point she figured herself to be cranky from the electrocution…

The 7XY2 Rutendo Dwarf-rifle that was strapped on her back underneath the thorax extension vest was drawn quickly. The little, sour bitch gun had no safety trigger for her to flip and proved to be a full automatic as it humped her right hand continuously, finger not once removing pressure off the trigger.

The shots, though aimed perfectly to fatal parts of the anatomy, rebounded off the creature's truly metallic skin in ballistic diffusions from the lights erupting off of the impact.

The third shift of her aim ricocheted and destroyed the light within a 20 foot range of the hall's area they stood in. The shroud deceived her instead of coming to her aid.

The air within her was purged immensely as the creature bolted and kept going. Her mouth wished to suck up the slips of air that flew by her. The creature charged toward the engine room, placing her as the arriving tip of his charging path.

The pressure doors opened and he stopped after reaching a foot inside of the room, she flew backwards and crashed on the floor, her body rolled once and her face became the brakes of her sliding form, the surface did nothing for the old scars on her face. Her eyes opened when it arrived within 2 feet of her. She launched up, striking it across the face with the barrel of the gun still clenched in her hand, finger far away from the trigger. Its head spun around almost whimsically at the impact she had. Her left hand grabbed the spinning head, stopping it exactly so the back of its head now faced the anterior side. Her right followed close in suit.

Though his had, turned completely to the backside , a sure sign of death or no vertebra to a human, his arms acted and moved as if his head was facing front and grabbed at her.

All her take down training and instant kills were now a vain display against the creature's full-rotational neck.

A scaled fist connected with her face, crunching her nose and rattling her teeth. Flying back from just the force of it, she fought hard to stomach it and continue to block its constant jabs, punches and strikes.

Ignoring the well of blood that collected into her mouth from her nose; she clenched her jaw and sidestepped the slash of his hand.

He missed it on account that his head was still rotated to the back by 180 degrees.

Her right leg slithered out and retracted to bring its leg with her as her body pivoted. One hand on its reptile skinned abdomen, her left violently twisted its right arm up and forced the thorax to move back. She brought the body down while her body leaned forward to send it down, avoiding the grasping arms. The creature landed on the ground stunned, all in single move of executed martial splendor.

_If she couldn't kill it, at least she could dismantle it_… She ducked to the floor where it rapidly began to rise.

She had to thrust all of her weight to push it to the ground, and then even more summoned in order to roll it onto a prone position and keep it from pushing itself up once laying face down. Her mind clenched as her body reacted quickly to its commands. Grabbing both arms, sitting on the backs of its thighs she planted both feet onto its back. She thrust her torso back, the veins and tendons of her neck rose in such edged cords it felt as though they would cut the skin. Her teeth pushed against each other so hard they threatened to shatter.

Even with her strength, the feat she continued in trying to pull off proved to be too much.

She felt her right arm begin to strain and the feeling, identical to the sensation felt after suspending herself from the canyon wall, began to reappear.

The feeling of a pressure that began with progressive disconnection began to subside within the socket of her right rotator cuff.

She heard a shriek of metal as her right arm let go.

Good thing for her left. She redirected the push of her feet and retracted the remaining arm as far as body and prosthetic would allow.

The arm of the creature's left separated with a sparkling display of jolting wires, alien fashia and the head of the Greater Tuberosity of a metal bone. The creature's head screamed in pain, its mouth greatly open, turning the warm psychosomatic chord that ran down her sternum into a cold twist upon seeing the sharp needle teeth the gaping mouth sported for the first time.

It didn't need both arms to fight, she came to understand as it quickly rose and knocked her off.

It stood and twisted it head back around with the remaining right arm, it turned to the front to regard her with a pissed nature that was heavily amplified by the slit red eyes and sharp bared teeth.

The left arm, dislocated, hung at its side by a few threads of cable.

She drew up her fists to attack but he grabbed them and knocked her down. It raised its arm to hammer fist her head into no more but her left caught it within 5 inches from her face. The hand relaxed, fingers unraveling and then tensing the hand and arms lunged for her face to remove her eyes as its body came down to crouch above her and pin her down. Her arm straightened and pushed the threatening appendage back.

Her other hand shot up to maintain distance of his head, especially the sharp teeth away from exposed flesh.

He snorted and snarled violently like a wild animal but reacted like a man.

Her mind, perplexed by the fact that he was made of metal, which meant no vital signs for her to seek out and destroy, made a great error. The sum that the balance of her brain and instinct had to process; inadvertently shut down and resorted to general reaction based on the instance of the situation.

Her knee came up hard and succeeded to only create a loud bang on the metal chasis of the connecter between its legs.

Looking away from the creature for a moment to recap the root of her brain's fart, she smiled inwardly and stared at the ceiling.

"_Idiot_… _Like a robot would be endowed._"

At least injury was not added to insult, her knee most likely had a huge bruise in the process of forming but at least the experience of the bruise would never be shared with her.

Its hand had slipped from her grasp in her momentary lapse of focus, her head spun suddenly as air rushed out. Now the area it just hit and the soon to form bruise she would definitely be feeling for a while. Absently as her body worked to restore air within her lungs she felt its weight rise off and its clawed hand grab her.

Her head nearly solidified from its melted disarray from abdominal trauma when the world itself around her blurred as her body flew in a wall.

The middle of her shoulders could feel a box protruding from the wall; she could tell it was covered in a glass casing because a few larger shards were now buried to point of breaching her scapulas.

She winced but ducked quickly because the creature rushed towards her. A fluid duck and roll away sent her over towards the front of the two generators.

The calm shades of purple and blue lighting that lined against the background of shadow in the room changed to an intense red, a sudden loud klaxon pulsed in her ears.

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Rat-Trap, already in his 5th stat of Rem cycle rotation awoke terrified to the all too familiar alarm that sounded once before when the ship was shot down by the Preds and crash landed on this planet.

"WHAT THE FRAG?!"

He leaned back too far in his parallel position on chair and fell off the arm rest.

He stood up just as Rhinox leaned over the controls, rapping vigorously on the key board. The young gold and blue bot followed and stared at the screen.

He turned to meet Rhinox who was in the middle of inputting the equation for an area format protocol scan.

"Are we under an attack?" The young cadet nodded up to the constant red lighting that spawned from the ceiling.

"No…" Rhinox said between taps, "It's a—en "

"Its in the engine bay." Optimus Primal finished the engineer's words.

"What?!" Rat-Trap held a look of surprise and agitation.

"It's the alarm panel…" Rhinox spoke up, an irritation in his voice to match that of Rat-Trap's.

The schematics on the screen expressed a light blue structure of the engine room. To the top left corner and red light pulsed in gentle rhythm.

"Someone must have hit it to trigger…." His statement of the obvious died quickly when his brain the visible significance of the three standing near him. The Maximal ship only contained 5 members that took homage within it.

The 4 slanted their optics at once and looked at one another.

"Dinobot…." They said in monotone unison.

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Dinobot grabbed the creature by the neck; a signal that meant in his old warrior expressions: _that he acknowledged the warrior before him, the head on its shoulders for being so tactful and courageous and the fact that he wished to duel this creature in honor to the death._

To Noose, the firm clawed fist gripping her throat signaled that it meant to attempt to end her life by strangling her. A move she used many times to kill her own enemies.

She sputtered as the pressure increased, the kneeling position she remained in did not better the circumstances.

He continued the quick ceremony by lifting it up to his level Meeting eye to eye he demonstrated that the creature before him was equal in his eyes.

It lifted her up so her legs dangled and cut off her ability to overthrow the choke hold by shifting her weight if her feet were on the ground.

He snarled, but then softened his chortle as he verbally saluted the creature, before continuing their battle.

"At first I thought you to be a coward with such a large weapon at you disposal…"

He glanced at the few remaining cables that prevented his arm from complete dislocation.

"But now I see that you are a true warrior, how strong and agile you are, I can't wait to fight you until the energon from both of us stains the floor…"

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The Red of Rat-Traps optics glowed passionately in the lack of light in the upcoming hall.

"Man when I see Dinobot I swear I'm gonna take the barrel uh my gun, shove it up his post waste port and _Aft-Frag_ him until his fried circuits leak out of his audio receptors."

"What?!"

The copper Rat-Trap nearly ejected from his natural chassis as Cheetor suddenly audibly and optically appeared right next to him.

Optimus, who stood to the very front of their group, half turned to inspect Rat-Trap's most recent obligation to have to fix up the spark leaping profanity his mouth could produce. He smiled to see the mouthy exploration volunteer finally restoring to clean up his circuit twisting profanity.

"Uh… Nothin' kid…. I'm gonna… Beat the pits outta Dinobot for setting off the alarm and wakin' me from my beauty sleep."

He saw the sudden twist of disappointment on Optimus's face.

He gulped down a knot of energon, "Uh… Did I say beauty sleep? I meant guard duty at the computer."

The big half-gorilla robot turned back around, Rat-Trap let out a sigh.

"Well that sure was close, good thing Big Ape let it slide-AUGH!!

Rat-Trap let out a wail as his passing legs were suddenly halted in their process, sending his body forward and burying his face into the solid metal floor.

The three came to his side. Rat-Trap proceeded to glare at whatever had tripped him but completely forgot the idea when his optics swept over the object.

His legs laid over one of the biggest blasters he'd seen since their landing on this planet. Bigger then Rhinox's gyratory machine guns even.

"That's the biggest gun I think I've ever seen…" Rhinox said half hypnotized by its threatening shape.

Optimus looked down at it; sure it was big but… In its self it was just a gun at the moment.

He spotted his spotted cadet reaching down to grab it. He leaned forward and grabbed Cheetor's wrist before a single digit could trace it.

"Leave it…. It could… Well it could be dangerous, let's see what Dinobot is doing in the engine room and then we'll inspect this thing."

The four ignored the unanimous question that rose in their heads. _What the hell was a gun like that suddenly doing there in the middle of the hall?_

Sure enough upon entering the pressure door, there stood Dinobot, but from what could be concurred no problematic factors were sighted on the engines and not the slightest flicker of a Pred energy signature could be scanned.

What was scanned though, writhing feebly in his outstretched arm was something they could only describe as strange.

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It was a long duration since the last time Noose felt the vice grip of strangulation upon her. From watching so many die by her hands this way, she would not embarrass herself by making the choked gag sounds and forming of tears that those strangled by her did. Practically whimpering as death jumped onto their bodies and unlatched their souls.

If she were to die this way; she would die in dignity, silently, looking into her enemie's eyes and expressing to it the absence of fear she felt from it.

Since she existed so green to the experience at the moment; retaining silence and dignity would be far more of a challenge than she presumed.

Not yet finished with the universal formalites, he paused in his speech , awestruck by the creature.

It was changing color!

Or in the red and shadow that surrounded them its life representing aura seemed to dim as time progressed. It face became red then purple turning a different color to him by the over powering red light. To blend with the shadows?

_What an interesting warrior he had before him. It was strong, vicious and it could change color to match the overpowering red that surrounded it. This indeed would be a great battle to come._

Just because she decided that it was a possibility for her to die didn't mean that death was completely upon her. She still wanted to explore the ship, and… She did like the concept of existing.

A loud clang sounded with her first kick. A part of her mind rolled its eyes, this alw2ays worked with the times that suspension left her limited to no other attack, against human foes. But this creature here was a fucking machine, and machines don't let go so easily.

_She could use her arm, but even with her amazing strength and alloy-metal bones, would it really make a difference?_

_No_…._ It didn't._

Her arm came down with heavy crashing force. Doing nothing but bending its arm at the elbow for a split second while the nerves in her arm sang like a chorus of pain. The vibrations of solid metal bone replacements in her forearm and hand traveled through the entire metal that was her humorous and traveled back again. Reverberating and awaking all the nerves in her arm to sing with the choir in her wrist and hand, the vibration its self, a steady, encouraging tempo for them to continue to sing.

The pain slightly unraveled the cords wrapped around her mind to keep it in a perfect sphere of calm. As result of the whipped unraveling her legs shot out and kicked a set of varied leg thrusts to the creature's abdomen and thorax.

It was pointless to do this. Robots were without the sensation of pain or any sensation for that matter.

Dinobot bit back the rushing desire to wince and cover his abdomen.

_Not like he could_…

A Sudden pop of electricity from one of the disconnected circuits of his agonizing dislocated arms joined the Blaring klaxon and strange held back chokes from the creature.

There were several sensation receptors clustered in large groups within the superficial coating of his skin of that area it was attacking. He didn't appreciate the pain nor how it was deforming the shape of his alternate form's head, most likely releasing a good number of the sharp reptilian teeth with each kick.

But he would proceed with honor of the rules of the battlefield, even if his opponent was rather impatient.

"I know--OOF!!… You are-Uggh!... But!!"

The creature ceased attack to hes ventral chamber, he let a sigh of relief slip quietly through his teeth and continued. Putting aside the bemused reaction he had to its strange change in facial patterns.

"Don't worry I'm almost done…" He snorted.

He raised it up a centimeter higher.

"May the best-"

In the lull and melting of her mind a general pattern in the guttural spittings of the creature that elevated her came forth for her to try to recognize as a language. While her movements became relaxed, she half wondered in the 'Near Death' euphoria what it was verbally trying to convey.

Her lip twitched as the creature went on, the answer of which was that it was a language that she both heard and spoken once before, flew around her head like a gnat, but in perfect grabbing distance. She almost did reach for it but the teather of death and loss of oxygen dragged her down promptly.

_So this is the real thing_… She thought, experiencing many 'near deaths', this was the only 'full death' she would ever know.

The dark and red of the room became just dark. The feeling of something great and disabling rising to fold over her from behind pushed out the pathetic gagging and gasps to her mouth form the dead-bolted prison of her throat. Her mouth was that of a fish out of water as wide and open, her nostrils flared erratically but with each contortion of the two openings for air to venture through the essential passage was blocked by a reptile skinned fist. Her body hoped that as a few of the talons from his clawed hands began to puncture through skin that a hole for air would be formed. Even if the little holes really did form, it was not enough to bring her to. Her lids were open but her eyes rolled back into her head as if they were closed. Cold began to trickle into the distal ends of her body, stating on the very tips of her fingers.

Smooth and as comfortable her mind became in slipping into death she couldn't help but welcome the disappointment the remaining lucid parts felt.

Then feeling the lightening of her body as things became darker her mind had one last criticism for the world.

_What? No flashback or play out of my memories and experiences of my life? No filler to aid me in piecing the meaning of my life and a statement of my personal worth that I already know of_…?

Maybe she did not receive this final little parting ceremony because she was evidently dammed. Dammed for doing a damn good job of killing and warfare. Oh well… Let the demons come, she'd rip them apart and look straight into the doomed face of ultimate oblivion and not blink.

The last thing she heard and the last thing she saw, before leaving, was on her left side.

A hiss at the door interrupted the blaring klaxon she long since forgot. Her left eye caught what came through the door. Which happened to be four more metallic beings that wore pieces of animals as armor atop their shells.

The corner of her gaped mouth twisted and she let out her last breath with style.

"_Well I'm really fucked now_…."

_Disclaimer…crap: DON'T OWN BEASTWARS, I do happen to have the entire 3 seasons on dvd, for very cheap pricing, thank you _


	10. Chapter 10

_TK-Productionz:_

_Sorry, again(….. TTTT….) for such a long wait… I had school and other things, I know…_

_That sounds like complete bullshit but it's the truth._

_Not to give too much away but this is the chapter where I introduce Megatron….._

_ENJOY!!!_

_And please…. Review…_

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The room was a harem for the patrons of darkness, neon strands of light that curved and straightened with the conjoining corners of ceiling and floor created areas of non-dark. An arrogant and tyrannical hum reverberated against the walls it origins were of that from the lights and a large computer that scaled a good territory of the grand suit.

The short and dark halls lead to a greater room and greater sound to dominate the silence. Its heptagonal shape gave way to several walls being dominated by things of interest and possessions of armament. Amidst the white-blue neon slivers of the walls and distinct purple and metallic grey were the colors of the room.

On the massive bed just left to a wall of hideous and dangerous looking weapons a great, lavender Tyrannosaurus slumbered under a grand layered wrap of linens.

The drool from its toothy mouth already created quite a lake in a large depression in the sheet. The salivary liquid would surely forever stain and damage the light purple negative space and deep purple insect-head image, the symbol of the Predacons, which covered the general negative space of the sheets.

It's large eyed twitched underneath the heavy sleep crusted lid. From effect of the dream it experienced its tail lashed out from underneath the covers. Striking the wall just below where a poster of the Maximal leader, Optimus Primal, was posted as a crude target of marksmen practice. Many burn marks and bullet holes disrupted the picture of the leader's image especially the bullet hole placed just between the portrait's optics.

Within the processes of his brain, the T-Rex had reigned supreme. In an intangible jungle forest it stomped around like a tyrant, its lips curled to give way to a torrent of saliva that descended form its mouth in bungee-like strands. The clawed toes cringed and buried the enamel tips deeply into the soft top soil of the misty and damp forest. The tail swayed in unrest, it was hungry!!!!

A rhino, cheetah, raptor, rat and a gorilla all traveled together in a ridiculous pack. The thick, wet tongue wrapped along the rim of teeth and cracked lizard lip. Maximal would be on the menu today….

The reptilian eyes slit upon seeing the grey and black form of the lumbering gorilla, that would be its main course.

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His mandible extensions flailed in unrest and uneasiness. Entering their leader's room without appointment or announcement equaled a painful disembowelment and needed trip to the CR chamber. The clank of his metal feet upon the same element made floor reverberated into his mandibles forcing them into an ever greater frenzy of unrest.

He didn't have to do this; he didn't want to do this… _Where is Terrorsaur whenever he's actually needed, or any of the other processor-less lackeys when you needed them_?

Though he plotted against the tyrant on a regular basis he could not help the building pressure around his spark chamber. He did as he pleased against the fascist, but always in conduct of discretion. A straight forward task such as this, from a painful history of being under their leader's rule, always remained as an existing choice the mad man had never independently chosen.

_Why did this little notion have to be brought up now, when he was so far buried in his devious schemes and maniacal experimentations, couldn't it wait_?

The image of Blackarachnia's Cyber-Venom Combustion Ballista gun pointed in the middle of his optic visor, while her machine gun loaded spider leg extensions of her upper arms protracted to aim at other vital points of his mechanical anatomy came to mind.

_Oh_… _That was why he had to do this_.

When upon choosing her alternate form to be an arachnid, like his, for the completion of her creation and permanent instatement into the Predacon ranks. He managed to delete the yearning for sex appeal and pursuit of companionship from the void in his spark only to fill his circuitry with annoyance and insubordination to the will of the wicked little She-bot.

Did other's who created companions in their image face such painful fights only to give in to the will of their creations..?

_Surely Unicron, the eater of planets and the evil counter part of the life giving Primus, never faced such rebellion from his descendants and kin_?

So why did the She-Spider win this round of the always dangerous game of "Who's Going To Be The Harbinger".?

A familiar buzzing filled the air and managed to dishevel the sweet, sweet thoughts of terminating his creation.

He growled, the spider-like mouth pieces in front of his facial, mechanical Larynx flailed crazily in their mandibular joints at the new, overpowering sound. The flexible material of his optic visor bent as his movable eye ridge slit the yellow frame to emphasize a glare as his head and body turned to meet the whimsical lackey.

A wasp, green for the most part, yellow and black stripes covered the thorax; hovered in front of the anthropoidal, arachnoid influenced in apparel, Tarantulas.

Hovering in the air, its body mass and length were equal with Tarantulas, if not just by a few centimeters smaller

Tarantulas glared at him, his yellow optic visor slit dangerously into a small sliver. The ivory mandibles drew down into six slashes that gave shape of a phalanx to convey his alien form of a frown.

"_Hello Spider-bot_…" The wasp said, the sound of his voice high, nasally, and as buzzing sounding as his buzzing wings.

"Waspinator…" Tarantulas spoke; his own reserves of cyber-venom swelled and threatened to leak from his 'terrorized-mode'.

He was tired and jesting cruelty could not be processed to his modem's CNS and anthropoid-cranial expression unit. Because of his exhaustion caused from the anticipation he experienced in awaiting the inevitable pain that would come from interrupting their leader; absolute indifference and hatred would have to be placed upon the giant, flying insect.

"What exactly are you doing here..?"

The wasp was surprised, to say the least, at the disturbance of the evil scientist's usual banter and spark-crushing communication. The surprise gave the ever inferior underling a taste of power over the other mech. In turn with this sudden grant of authority made him act like a smart-aft.

"_Oh Wazz-pinator just buzz-ing around when all of a sudden see Spider-Bot on Megatron'z door step_. _Wazz-pinator curious to see what Spider-bot is doing out here_…"

The taste of power would prove to be exactly what it was, just a taste; an idea struck red hot in the furnace of Tarantulas' core hard drive processor.

He worked hard to keep his mandibles from flickering three sets of grins; he needed to make himself believable to the insectoid fool. His suave abhorrence returned to his features and he gestured it to further enhance his bluff.

"Well… Not like its any of your business insect but my collected scans of monitoring the Maximal base proves that they seem to be; by lack of outward activity, processing strategies of stealth operations for the termination of our mission."

The green insect head tilted, forcing the brown antennae to sway to one side. The sideways, mandible-possessed mouth remained open.

"_Spider-bot say what_…?"

Waspinator was sure of a few sparks and smoke trailing from his processor in result of the vernacular overload that came from the anthropoid spider-mech's cranial Larynx.

Tarantulas covered his face with the yellow and purple striped spider mandible that was his hand.

It did well to cover the three grins of his mouth.

"I'm going to see Megatron because I've been spying on the Maximals and they don't seem to doing anything…"

He explained in plain English for the ignorant wasp to understand.

"_And that'z bad_…" His processor was still a little fried.

Now the wasp was just being stupid, a little too stupid for his spontaneous plan to work. His optic visor slit to a dangerous sliver again as diminished cyber-venom sprayed from his mouth.

"YES THAT'S BAD YOU IDIOT!!!"

The wasp hovered a bit higher as his panic came to life. "_OH_!! _Well then Wazz-pinator better warn other'z_!!!"

He was less than a nano-cycle before taking off when the striped, crab-like hand of Tarantulas shot out to grab him at the base of his wasp form's stinger and drag him down with unanticipated force.

_Apparently the stupidity of others was not always so smooth to work in your favor, _Tarantulas thought; a lower corner of the ridge of his visor twitched in irritation.

"The rest of the crew already knows and that's why I have taken it upon myself, ("and by the blackmail of a certain witch…" He mumbled to himself.) To tell Megatron about this."

He could see the uncertainty in the insect trusting his credibility in the giant, impassive blue compound eyes of the wasp.

_Perhaps a little more coaxing would have to be dealt before the idiot would unknowingly agree to become my fool_…

"Of course… I do believe Megatron will reward anyone who warns him of danger before it strikes."

Waspinator's antennae flicked up in torrent of an onslaught of unrealistic rewards for being a harbinger.

"_Well the let'z get in there and tell Megatron_!!!" He spoke with elated jubilee.

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The thick mists of the jungle did well to wet the Tyrannosaur's appetite. It also did well to momentarily shield the inferior prey from the inevitable doom approaching tremendous stomps. The gait of the predator was slowed; each step paced a long duration from the next. In their hiding spaces, its feet sounded like booming thunder. The drool from its maw created miniature lakes in the soil.

Coming to a standstill it lowered its massive head below the curtain of mist to better seek out the locations of its hidden dinner. The bulging red eyes were squinted by the thick leathery flaps of its lids, the nostrils constricted and dilated in steady rhythm like the ventricle chambers of a pulsing heart. The nose holes enlarged suddenly as the faintest smell was excavated from under its thick covering jungle smell and thick mist. Desperately the nostrils began a Tachycardia version of the rhythmic heart beat, dilating and contracting a hundred times a minute; desperate for the smell to return to the sensory chamber of the inner-nasal canal. The heart-like rhythm stopped altogether and the thick-hide lips pulled back in anticipation to show the tips of a few, blood-soaked teeth.

It had located the whereabouts of the gorilla.

Boasting a bloodcurdling roar it charged into the thick bush where the gorilla suddenly sprang and began lumbering in pursuit of remaining alive. The two legged, tail thrashing, sharp-toothed, purple monster clung to the primate's running heels.

In midst of its thundering charge abandon of destroying all forestry in its way, it eyed the prey's juicy fur covered flank.

_What to eat first_…?

Its primitive mind toiled with the flavors and consistency of the prey's flesh.

At this point, with such a primal demand and saturation of adrenaline, the silver back would outrun the monstrous t-rex; but the jungle's denseness betrayed it as an elevated root crossed paths and lynched on of its hind feet.

The beast continued to charge a by some miracle the creature's primal brain shut down and the Maximal psyche took its place.

Dinner had escaped the purple terror as the gorilla contorted and segmented, revealing a robotic form within. Two lights flickered from his back-side and Optimus Primal, originally the trapped gorilla, lifted into the sky as the flickering lights turned out to be twin rocket blasts from a dorsal jet-pack.

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_Good_ _thing Waspinator is an idiot_… Tarantulas thought as he literally broke into the security system of Megatron's personal quarters to open the door; a violation of several dozen codes of Predacon tyranny and loyalist decree that could be authorized to consequence of punishment and agonizing torture by their tyrannical leader's own hand. Anyone else to have optics peer on what he was doing and he'd be disassembled for scarp for mutinous behavior.

The cybernetic schematics that displayed within his processor, by link up feed from a glowing fire-wire installed into the door's frontal security panel, retracted from the hall to show a white skeleton of the dead bolt door that lead into Megatron's quarters. The red bars displayed the conduit and bolts of the locks. His visor twitched as he mentally installed the security code, his striped mandible hands hovered in air, typing on an imagined keyboard. The seven digits phased into the schematics of the door image, a little victory note sounded and the red shapes of the locks faded to yellow. The animations of the yellow image of the deadbolt locks lifted out from the 2-d square conduits.

This wasn't the first time he had broke into the leader's quarters, though it did takes a few more moments than usual for the 7 digit code was changed this time. Still this was Tarantulas who wanted access to the quarters, and by Unicron, he would get in.

Not long after a beep from the actual door sounded lightly and then a muffled but booming KLAK, as the super-steel dead bolts lifted from their locking chambers.

The door opened.

Just as soon as Tarantulas was enclosed by the shadow of the hall and door frame that was before the neon lines of the floor and ceiling began, Waspinator felt doubt and reasonable fear well up in his internal circuitry and expose him to be a true 'yellow-belly'…'yellow thorax'.

"_Um_…"

Tarantulas stopped, completely irritated, but he expected this to happen. He put on his best "caring" ruse and turned to face the overgrown wasp.

"_Wazz-pinator doesn't think this iz a good anymore_…_ Wazz-pinator knowz Megatron slagz whoever enters his room without an appointment_."

The wasp's nervousness created and even whinier pitch to his already nasally, buzzing voice; if such a thing could be achieved.

Tarantulas didn't have time for this, but as to be expected, the evil she spider held his lab under heavy hostage terms. He dare not re-enter his own domain without first consulting Megatron about the unusual activity of their enemy.

"Fine…"

Tarantulas turned knowing his false abandon would attract the wasp into the room like scrap to a super-magnet. He continued walking, the noises made from the wasp's indecision bounced off the walls.

"_Mmm-ZZZZZZ_!! _Wait for me_!!!"

This would have to be the first time Tarantulas really noted the décor and personal affects of the room. As he suspected from the persona radiated off the leader mech, it had _Megatron_ written all over it. As the dominant color of Megatron, the very very essence of purple lined and covered everything that was the structure of the room aside from some grey-black metallic and the practically white neon-blue ropes of light on the corners connecting the wall to floor and ceiling. He eyed , with disgust, the bright yellow rubber duck that was tucked half under the sheets in a juvenile fashion that matched the slumbering Tyrannosaur.

There were times that Tarantulas questioned the very fabric of reality of why and how the egotistical dope had remained in power for so long.

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The furious roar of the king beast cut through the thick mist and echoed through the land and sky.

As the jet-packed robot, none other than Optimus Primal, began to zoom forward the T-Rex would charge after him on clawed foot. Its thirst for blood and hunger for flesh propelled each monstrous lunge through the air, the beast did attempt to catch its airborne prey. The last jump, its tooth had scraped the end of the flying robot/gorilla's metal foot. With the next, Optimus Primal would be in his jaws. Finally sweet flesh would caress his tongue as mech fluid poured down his throat like savory nectar.

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"_Um_… _Megatron_?"

Waspinator hovered directly over the T-Rex's head. Tarantulas, while still disgusted and perturbed by Megatron's continuation as leader, didn't pass up the viewing pleasure to have a first account at Waspinator's demise.

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A primal urge rushed into his legs like surges of electricity. He crouched on his two legs and broke the restraint on the surge adding an extra boost to his launching legs.

Mist and air parted at his form like the red sea. Drawing closer with every nanosecond his jagged toothed maw sprang open. Optimus Primal looked behind himself just before the deadly jaws closed around his body. The jaws came close together with a sickening crush.

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Tarantulas noticed a very unusual amount of twitches and shudders from the large dinosaur as Waspinator, with every ounce of courage he retained, built up the nerve to continue in attempt to rouse their leader from his intense dreaming.

It couldn't have been a more perfect and hilarious performance, Tarantulas noted as he witnessed the demise before him.

There Waspinator remained hovering in the air, stumbling remarkably over every sentence uttered to wake Megatron up. Then out of nowhere Megatron launched his upper body and head into the air, divorcing all wedlock's with the purple sheets and sending his beloved rubber-duck on an airborne vacation. Eye closed, his previously dopey sleep grin was twisted and split as his sharp toothed maxilla dropped from its closed position, the bulky pink tongue, from the middle of the maxilla curled in anticipation as the jaw co-operated with the rest of the mouth to open remarkably wide and encase around most of Waspinator's body all in the same motion.

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The screams of pain and agony entered his ears and floated in his head like soul warming music. With the crushing power of his jaws the Maximal leader was no doubt segmented in half by the sheer force. Optimus would remain connected so long as his jaws did not depart. The two halves of the Maximal's body danced and jumbled around as the undulating mashing began. Finally the sweet flesh of his prey caressed his tongue and swam in the pools of his saliva. Mech fluid and blood flowed down his throat like a stream of salivary nectar. He continued to chew relaxing the movements of his jaw to a slow mash in order to better enjoy his meal.

To his surprise, the sweet flesh of the Maximal leader didn't taste sweet at all, it tasted….Rather waxy.


	11. Chapter 11

_TK-Productionz:_

_Sorry, again(….. TTTT….) for such a long wait… _

_ENJOY!!!_

_And please…. Review…_

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Tarantulas let forth a sinister stream of tittles at the disappearance of the wasp. It was good to have enjoyment at the painful expense of others, especially when half the credit of the cause went to him for tricking the fool into being his scapegoat.

Waspinator didn't even get the privilege of seeing his instatement and short career, flash before his optics.

The shadow of Megatron's mouth overtook him in a moment and with it followed the numerous stabbings of viciously sharp teeth that pierced his armor and in massive onslaught, lay waste to his internal system.

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_Perhaps it was a "before"-aftertaste that brought about the undesirable waxiness, a defense or last stand against predators_…

He continued to chew, the body still struggled slightly, the several wiry arms stuck out of his mouth and vainly banged on his snout.

_Wait a cycle_… He thought, _Optimus Primal doesn't have multiple spiny arms_…

His heavy lids finally decided to stay open to find a yellow and black, striped, bulb-like thing sticking out of the side of his mouth. With his munching subdued he could hear the maniacal giggles of Tarantulas and the muffled pleas of Waspinator.

"_Itz me Megatron_… _Stop chewing Wazz-pinator!!!_"

The pain-filled voice begged while one of the insect arms patted the top of his snout as if to signify where the incompetent was hiding.

Megatron never like the taste of bugs….

He suppressed the urge to gag as he spat the undesirable insect from his mouth.

There lay the pitiful sight of the green and yellow lackey; a clump of dented and mashed, twitching parts.

Still feeling soiled; pieces of the bug still in his mouth, he worked up a good amount of artificial T-Rex saliva and produced the tattered remains of the wasp's wings. Not as covered by the artificial salivation as the drenched pile of bug parts now floating in a puddle of the stuff; the wings drifted down to the crumpled mass in a floating downward zigzag like a feather descending and landed on the bot just as gently.

He stood from the large bed and looked down to the snickering mech.

Tarantulas recollected himself quickly under the towering scrutiny but allowed the representation of smiles in the form of tilted mandibles remain on his face.

"**_Megatron-TERRORISE_!!!**"

The voice activation code alerted all his mechanical functions below the thick layer of artificial reptile hide.

His body contorted and began to take itself apart. The huge toothy maw and head of the dinosaur sprang forward, then to the side to become a strange pincer-like crab claw for the forearm and hand of his right arm of the robot underneath. The flesh of the T-Rex abdomen and thorax split into segments and retracted to become a dorsal pack at the forming humanoid-mech's back. The tail came forward and shifted to three connected and jutting pieces forming a deadly lance that protected the other arm. The large clawed feet remained, the anterior patella hinge jointed legs were suitable for the robots lower legs, but the scaly flesh of the thighs retracted to form compacted semi-circles on the robots hips, between the compacted flesh and metal hip joints three barreled semi-guns were now visible. The robot's purple sheen metal torso rotated from its side turned position to face forward and give him the final completion from _Tyrannosaur_ to anthropoid robot.

The reptilian, clawed feet made quite the impact on the dull metal floor as he stood back to reach his bed again. He disconnected the huge lance and set it on the bed. With a free and actually digit equipped hand, he could inspect his alternate forms mouth, the tyrannosaur head that was now his right hand, for remaining insect parts.

"Um… Megatron?"

Tarantulas was adamant to conclude this impromptu meeting.

The cybernetic drowsiness of being roused from a heavily saturated dream remained in segments that clung to his movable joints and facial mechanics. His cyber-fatigue quickly diminished as his hand's thumb and forefinger plumbed at something alien between the back molars of the T-Rex head's mouth. He was now fully awake as he retched in disgust upon pulling the material out from between the teeth to discover it to be a twitching, single brown antenna. He threw it on the floor where the rest of Waspinator remained.

Now appalled and tragically awake, he turned full attention on the purple anthro-spider-mech standing before him.

"This had better be good Tarantulas, I was having… A _very _good dream." His voice a deep and powerful, subtly English-commander accent sounded groggy with hints of snobbish superiority.

In Robot form Megatron stood at least 2 heads above himself and worst of all, he looked angry. Large size in a mech, _especially when dealing with Predacons_, always resulted in a painful defeat.

To save his spark business and urgency would be the only things to distract Megatron from the luscious idea of simply ending the meeting by raising the Tyrannosaur headed arm of his and opening the mouth to release a powerful energo-cannon beam capable of blasting him into tiny, easily processed pieces of scrap.

"You've noticed I'm sure-" Verbal ice-breakers for conversation did not easily surface in the threatened Tarantulas' processor. "That thing's have been quiet on the Maximal radar system?"

Megatron eyed him sternly, but the full emotional force of capable threat had diminished from his features. He listened carefully to what the "underling arachnid" had to say, being mindful to detect if it was another one of his timely deceptions. He flexed his brow menacingly as the spider continued his chide on Maximal readouts, how they reacted only in a preserving manner in the last attack to their base.

The remembrance of how his troops succeeded to fail in stealing the 5 refined energon barrels gave a more realistic quality in the second descend of his brow and slitting optics.

The gentle and barely controlled sudden quiver of the robot's metallic mandibles on his face revealed the signs of no invisible plot or schemes of deception; nothing was hidden behind the spider's continuing stream of words.

_Very well_… Megatron thought, _it must be something of importance, that I had best listen to with both audio receptors_.

"Well you see…" The look had softened on his leader's lavender tinted face, but that could mean sadistic amusement was bubbling on the other side, softening the leader's face, waiting to boil over and hurt him. "I think they may be up to something. They're storing energy, except to power their defenses-"

Megatron finished his words, "They could be working on a new weapon…"

"Or something just as dangerous!" the spider chimed, his mandibles flared out as he spoke the words with some sense of urgency.

"Hmm…" The deep baritone of Megatron's voice made the hum sound louder than it was. He took his chin in his thumb and fingers and stroked slightly as his body drooped to position itself to sit on the edge of the bed. His face softened even more, pliability was better on the mind when in thought.

Tarantulas felt a small ping in his core processor; it seemed that Megatron had listened to everything he said without even the slightest banter or hint of doubtful suspicion.

His lab would be reclaimed and he could return to his introvert brooding, continuing his sadistic experiments and maniacal plans.

Amidst their feet, Waspinator, with whatever remained of his wasp form's peripheral extensions, dragged his crushed and segmented parts like an amoeba of mechanical parts in a pathetic fashion to the hall that lead out.

All forms of wires, processing chips, circuitry and shattered metal created a trail behind him. Accompanied by the stretching pool of saliva, he looked very much like a green, crumpled slug; moving at about the same speed too. Yet in all total definition of his destruction, his mouth and cyber larynx worked perfectly, somehow both had dodged the piercing weight of the Megatron's teeth though his head now had several deep punctures and the overall shape was now horribly disfigured.

He winced and muttered to himself as the two bots towering above completely ignored his presence and the shatter sounds his body made with each painful drag across the floor.

"_First Wazz-pinator get used az target practice by Terrorsaur and Scorpinok. Then when Wazz-pinator triez to help Spider-bot wake up Megatron, Wazz-pinator becomes chew-toy_…"

"Alert the others and begin planning a stealth attack." Megatron's voice now boasted the deep toned commanding element.

Tarantulas felt the clutching around his spark loosen tremendously. He had broken into Megatron's room, tricking an underling into receiving the unintentional attack that always came with rousing the heavy sleeper, and, best of all, he succeeded in delivering the _not-completely-urgent_ news to the periwinkle fool without even the slightest abuse…

"As you command Megatron." He turned, noting the too cheery tone in his own voice.

Megatron's optics slit and a wry smile slowly slid across his lips as he watched Tarantulas leave.

"Oh Tarantulas…"

"Yes..?" He turned around, completely oblivious with joy.

"Just how did you get into my room without notifying me first..?"

BLUEAUGH!!! The spider-bot choked, stunned, his optic visor becoming a very wide oval. "….uh…. Well you see… Me and-"

His planned excuse was inhumanely aborted when his vision swept over the puddle of saliva on the floor, only to find bits and pieces of the other mech that accompanied him in make a small trail leading out the hall.

A mechanical whirr muffled by something sounded from the left corner of the room. Then a sliding sound as a plate suddenly retracted from the ceiling to create a square opening.

A double barreled port-gun descended on a fully rotational extension feed.

The spider legs that attributed to his alternate form's arachnid extensions curled up as the bot trembled. The gun loaded and directed both barrels towards Tarantulas.

He looked over to Megatron to find a smile of satisfaction on the scary leader's face.

Knowing well that escape was an idea of farcical pretensions he looked pathetically to Megatron, "B… Be gentle…" he lowered his head as he cringed, knowing nothing else to do in the wake of the painful nemesis.

From the open door to Megatron's quarters a flashing of Red-Pink light stretched in circular blasts along the space of the outside corridor with every loud shot fired, each shot ended with a suffering cry from Tarantulas. With as many holes that he probably retained now, his salvation would be by the will of Megatron. That is, if the leader felt the spider valuable enough to commit in such irritable task to drag the damaged spider to the nearest CR Chamber.

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In the mist, in the bottomless pit of her mind, all that existed was darkness. Its reason for being mostly in part for the fact that her eyes refused to open.

The rebirth of noise and feeling came back in shards with her awakening. Cool wet sensation became the first of the shards to purge the closed gaits of her mind. Then the parastesia and numbness to the side of her head and whatever lay beneath it.

Moving and mumbling in an infantile manner while the sense of consciousness slowly returned, her mind would be an open basket, allowing things to fall in as they did. Her logic and inspection were slow in task to receive them and come to an answer.

Slowly she discovered the element of cool wetness after raising her head subconsciously, her eyes still refused to open. Feeling the slight defeat she placed her head back down to feel some of the strange element, but descending pressure of her head, push up and well into her ear. The auditory instrument reacted to the liquid entering as a woman acts to a rapist's phallus entering her without consent, out of control. She squinted her closed eyes and rolled her head out of the decent puddle, rubbing the raped side harshly against the floor while her face twisted into a grimace.

The puddle, she realized, turned out to be a sloppy formation of drool. Her own salivation still very much wet, softened the irregular tissue and multiple scarring of her cheek in its wet alteration.

The thing beneath; the thing experiencing most of the sensation of parathesia turned out to be her gloved hand. She clutched and extended the fingers, the numbness died off and the true needle like sensation of parasthesia threw a tantrum within every fiber of the distal extension.

She rubbed the glove against her face to help relieve the cold of the soaked cheek but used the hand of her left, the one still feeling numb to do so. Kevlar, Tripolythane-kevlar at least, can feel quite slick under the influence of a liquid. Much like a grooved alternate of the texture of a water smoothed rock.

She rose up, her left, bulky arm came to provide a stand as her body rose from its side, her eyes finally agreed to open.

What could be described as the area around could only be summed up in the image of red light intermixed with total black.

_Strange_… She thought, _wasn't hell supposed to be made of fire and indescribable horror? And wasn't it supposed to be as hot as, well_… _As hot as the very hell she had heard described by the few religious people in her life, which she figured herself to now exist in._

_Then again_… She did recall a loosening of the pressure around her neck just before her eyes rolled back in her head.

_This wasn't hell,_ she wasn't dead. She remained very much alive and the circular chamber that was created by the surrounding red bars of light appeared to be the strange alien's idea of a brig cell.

Strange that light would be omitted from the ceiling and connect to the floor to create a continuous stream of solid glowing red light.

Apparently for the few moments she had been awake her brain refused to analyze properly; without a single thought, she out raised her hand from her lying side position to flicker the space of the beam absently.

When the digits reached proximity, a burst of light erupted from the contact and a stream of pain fed down the length of her arm. In the same moment that the light erupted it diffused in its burst and sent the outstretched limb back to her. She bared her teeth, hissing at the violent eruption of pain, clenching the damaged right with her left hand.

_Great_… Now both hands were steadily cooked below the untouched Kevlar.

Whoever crafted her actual battle-suit, if by machine or manual hands, she now considered a moron. Who, once she returned to her time, would die a horribly long death for forgetting to apply a padding of fire-retardant material to the interior of the gloved hand pieces of her suit.

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Rhinox sat at the monitor cubicle outside the protective walls of the ship's brig. The room was very small and very ordinary looking.

The readout from the security camera within the holding space of the actual cell transferred a black and white image. Apparently the creature finally awoke; its movements were slow, methodical; like a young sparkling before protocol and personality data processing installation.

Rhinox winced sympathetically after the creature withdrew its hand from the blasting spark that erupted from making contact with the holo-solid, energo restraining beams.

He sighed; relieved to see the creature existed virtually unharmed, minus a small trail of smoke from the hand that died away quickly.

"Shouldn't have touched that…" His head nodded horizontally like a sympathetic parent of a child who just walked into sliding glass door rather harshly.

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She smelled the scent of burning skin leaking from the micro-porous relieves of her suit. It reminded her of the smell of burning hair, a side effect of what previously occurred with her and the metal being before strangulation and loss of consciousness.

Remembering what she could from being suspended in the air, while all of forms of respiration were pressed out of her, her hands leapt up, on instinct, to inspect her neck.

Gloved and tender fingers probed from between the flexible material of her neck guard and the bruised matter of her cervical area and trachea. Her fingers hurt from the blistering second degree burns and her neck sang in duet as the sensitive tips of her fingers pressed against sensitive, contused flesh.

Obviously nothing was broken or her hands would remain on the floor, motionless and most likely she would be dead or fully paralyzed on the floor.

Feeling around she remembered the claws on the metallic creature and went to inspect the punctures and scratches on the back and sides of her neck. The wounds were superficial, she could figure, for the blood had dried up long before leaving sticky hard patches around her neck, catching a few hairs matted to the congealed source and getting pulled out as her hands moved away.

Now that she surmised her body to be of stable ordinance, exempt from some deep bruising, she made attempt to get up on her feet but the physical movement came with an eruption of pain that resulted when her abdomen contorted to draw up her upper-body.

She grit her teeth as her head bounced when hitting the floor, jarring the sensation of a light head ache. The cranial pain lifted soon, like a cloud of dust lifts when something of great weight hits dust covered ground.

_Oh yeah_…

She remembered.

_That creature punched into her stomach hard enough to send her into unconsciousness for a few moments_.

She may have retained some internal bleeding from the powerful blow.

Without performing a painful re-attempt to use her stomach to draw herself up she instead laid flat on her back and brought up her hand to palpate the extent of the damage.

Finding her lowest anterior rib, her hands lowered a few centimeters from that point and then pressed down. Her stomach was hard, but that sense of rigidity would not be a sign of internal bleeding due to the fact of her bulletproof, but still slightly flexible material that covered her skin and her well exercised six-pack.

She brought the fingers pressed into her abdomen up slowly. Nothing resulted.

"One…" She said quietly.

Her hands traced over to her left side and repeated the process, upon lifting the fingers nothing occurred.

"Two…"

Now to the bottom right, she pressed down and methodically she raised her pressed down hands.

"Three…"

Her hands drew over to the left; they pressed down with little sensation aside from the same dull pain from pressing down on the total area of her bruised abdomen.

As she lifted the fingers a jolt of pain filled in as the pressed down of space of her stomach lifted as the fingers elevated. It flooded the entire area, swirling in an agonizing ripple of radiating, liquid pain. Her eyes were open and yet darkness took over for a few seconds, when it deceased her head spun in circles for a few seconds.

Now no longer disabled from a dizzying traverse of her senses, fully conscious and alert she winced and the somewhat yellow teeth of her mouth bore as the rebound tenderness of having internal bleeding of the abdomen did not diminish instantaneously. Her arms prompted in reflex and wrapped themselves tightly around the area.

"_Four_…" She winced, her voice quite guttural and gravelly from the onslaught of pain.

She had sustained internal bleeding in her lower, left quadrant, quadrant four, it would radiate and throb for a while but she wouldn't die from it.

At least she better not die from it.

The nano-sized medic droids in her system were, as advertised:

_To dispose of dangerous parasites, flush out poisons and enemy hallucinogens, and,_ aside from several other functions; prevent internal bleeding on a massive scale.

The droids were probably repairing the bleeding right now and by pressing down and lifting up she experienced the residue pain that remained as repair continued.

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Rhinox jumped lightly at the unexpected hiss of an opening pressure door behind him. Where he expected to see Optimus walking through the door, instead the stern, observing look of Dinobot's blue mug looked over to him and then laid red glowing eyes on the control panel with great scrutiny.

Rhinox's golden eye ridges drooped upon recognition of the rigid warrior. It had been the 5th time that he had entered to the well being of the prisoner.

Luckily Rhinox would not be forced to repeat himself for what seemed to be the hundredth time, the healthy and sustained readout of the creature's condition within the brig. Optimus and the two other regular Maximals entered soon after. Sentinel was online and with them, a transportable handheld of the main security systems was within one of Rat-Trap's internal holding spaces.

"So how is it…?"

It was the same question Rhinox had heard 5 times already in the last half cycle but at least its origin was from the synthesizer of Optimus instead of Dinobot.

"Actually it just woke up…"

His green and gold head nodded toward the cubicle's monitor.

In fear of what it managed to do to Dinobot before mysteriously going off-line they decided to cover the glass window of the wall of the brig with several thick metal plates that they welded onto the wall. This was done to make sure that if it managed somehow to get through the incinerating energy bars to not breach the brig wall and to ensure that it could not see them, in fear of what it might plan if sight was an available resource.

Dinobot looked to the monitor to see his new, respectable adversary fully awake and calm in its small cell. He felt a spasm from within the fashia of the inner circuitry within his healed and reconnected left arm. He drew up the clawed fingers of his right hand to scratch and dent the synthetic raptor skin around the bicep and shoulder.

The creature was strong, strong enough to rip his arm clear from the joints and circuits that held it. The creature should be respected for giving him such a casualty, even though the disabling was easily undone by the skilled hands of Rhinox and then a revitalizing trip to the CR Chamber.

"Eh… Man!! Why are we keepin' this thing here…? O'l _Lizard-Lips_ over there-" Dinobot growled harshly at the rat but Rat-Trap was confident from the extended company around him to continue. "-says the thing is dangerous… We should destroy it and get back to repairing the ship."

Optimus frowned at the rat; unlike the rest of them Rat-Trap decided to arrive in his alternate, rodent form.

"Just because something's dangerous doesn't mean its evil Rat-Trap… We should try to communicate with it. Perhaps it has others of its species that could--"

"Very well slag us and send us to 'Matrix-come'…" Rat-Trap back-sashed.

Cheetor flinched when upon his watching of the monitor, the creature looked straight at the camera's lens and unknowingly sent fierce eyes to glare down the young mech.

He turned from the screen monitor, his inner deltoid transistors shaking violently, more frightened than what should occur.

"Yeah!" He interjected into the conversation. "Dinobot should know. He was up close and personal with the freak-bot!"

Optimus gave a disappointed look at the young cadet, in result Cheetor lowered his head and fidgeted guiltily.

Rhinox ignored their progressing quarrel and conference as the results of a curious diagnosis he imputed came to an answer with a slight beep.

The readout of the brig monitor shrank to the top corner of the screen but remained recording, just in a smaller box. Cybertronian script flashed into the now blue, empty space of the screen. He clicked enter into the control panel and a graph, molecular presentation unit and a fluctuating Richter-graph appeared. Components, equations and finally an answer emerged below the 3 images, rising slowly like a credit reel.

"Yes… I was the only one to really see this thing in action. It _is_ dangerous but I think _TERMINATING_-" He emphasized 'terminating' while lowering himself to practically touch noses to threaten the gray rodent, Rat-Trap. "-It would be, dishonorable…"

Dishonorable was uttered with a calmed firmness and directed toward the Maximal commander, Optimus Primal.

Optimus raised a brow at the unknown reason of why the only one who had actually faced the creature, mortally wounded by it; would be so against the idea of its termination.

"So you're against destroying it…" His eye ridge quirked a little more.

"Yes." Dinobot dipped his head respectably in agreement, his overall form held urgency, but under numerous layers of a secure tranquility. "I'm for the idea of trying to reason…. With him…"

"Him???" Cheetor remarked.

Dinobot smiled suavely, musing on how well the creature fought. "Yes, he is a very worthy opponent and I think we can reason with him very easily."

"Her…" Rhinox's voice came flatly out of nowhere.

Dinobot looked over to the seated Rhinox, he sat with his back to the group, busy staring at a large jumble of monotone words and figures while analyzing a fluctuating set of animated graphs.

Rhinox turned in his rotational seat to face the Maximal warrior. "It's a female…"

The reality of what was uttered shanked the front of Dinobot's head rather harshly, not that he thought femme's to be weaker; he just never expected the thing that had almost handed his dented skid-plate to him to be a female.

"Female?!?!" Rat-Trap burst out in disbelief. "Ya mean the thing that almost slagged Dinobot was a fraggin' femme!?!"

Rhinox nodded stoically, "From the data I've collected from many creatures native to this planet, I found that her pheromone signal is some what alike to the many pheromone read-outs of other female species."

"I never knew femmes could be dangerous…" Cheetor said aloud but the comment was intended mostly to himself.

"Then clearly you haven't been around that many femmes…" Rat-Trap pointed a finger in accusation and mockery, publicizing the fact of the cadet's juvenile reputation and non-existing contact with any Cybertronian femme that had come of age.

Cheetor glared at him before blushing in defeat to the truth of the statement, "Yeah…I guess you're right about that…" His tone was low and he glowered in submission.

Optimus had ignored the silly little banter and insult, there were more pressing matters to attend to. "Is it sentient?"

"Not sure…" The light of the monitor flickered on the shiny metal chassis of Rhinox's green face. "I can't so a neuro-scan by remote sensor… I'd have to go in there with the proper equipment and do it manually…"

Optimus turned, "Dinobot?"

The blue faced mech twisted from his intense stare at the monitor to look at the commander with surprise. All his attention was directed to the tiny box on the screen that showed the creature, his mind had slipped away to ponder the creature and its destiny to stumble into their ship.

"Uh…" He became rigid from embarrassment, "I was… More preoccupied with fighting it to notice. Although, it did manage to ambush me by using its own weapon…A massive cannon-like thing."

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!"

The expression of raising and waving his arms was wasted in his rodent form so he promptly transformed.

The rat head split at the underside to pull the sides of the rodent face to flatten, parallel with the top of his cranium the now stretched flat head became a chest piece for his revealing torso. The entire length of the rat body split in the same process, from trachea to anus it split into halves like the head, retracting and folding as it flattened. The area of his sides and the areas of his limbs were now folding and retracting to be parallel, if not on top of the rat forms spine. It formed a very strange utility-like pack and formation on his back. As the body split and withdrew, copper limbs, arms and legs unfolded from their space previously inside the rat body. The copper legs stretched as the feet connected with the floor to stand his now humanoid body up.

"-You mean that alien death machine-gun… That was hers…?"

Dinobot nodded but soon enough frowned as the now robot Rat opened his "trap" again. "Well then we have-ta destroy it."

Optimus looked unsure, "Well it could be…" He noted the homicidal look of disapproval emanating from Dinobot's face. "An enemy. But we have to be sure…"

"What?!?" Rat-Trap's voice sounded in a high pitched whine.

"Well we can't just destroy it!" Optimus' voice was authoritative and pressing, but not harsh. He looked down Rat-Trap with a compassioned authority. "I mean it's a living creature, perhaps the weapon is just something it carries for defense…---I'll try to communicate with it." Optimus moved toward the door.

Dinobot stepped in front his hand shielding the door release panel.

"No… I'll communicate with her. She knows me and its my duty to commend her for a battle well-started."

Optimus opened his mouth but Dinobot scowled, he quickly shut it.

His blue coated expressions softened and coyness, one they hadn't really ever seen radiate from the rigid, gung-ho Dinobot came with a slight smile. A clever smile, a simple up-turn of the mouth that conveyed that he knew something they didn't.

"Besides…" The smile upgraded to a jagged sharp toothed grin on his angular mug as he held up the other firearm he confiscated from her before she went off-line. "She's unarmed."

He threw it to Rhinox who, shocked but still physically alert caught it half consciously. As the effect that he was catching one of the creatures weapons processed through his cerebral circuitry he bounced the small gun between his large hands as if it were red hot.

The door hissed harshly and Dinobot took a nano-cycle to prep as he walked through the open threshold. Confidence slowly began to build up within his spark, for as he stepped through the door, the idea of death at the hands of his esteemed adversary bubbled in his core processor.


	12. Chapter 12

_TK-PRODUCTIONZ: Hey readers, sorry for such a wait… This summer's been kinda crazy and during the last remaining part of the year I was too captivated with working to get a 3.8 GPA to write._

_Here's a short chappie but I'll have another one up right after I'm done putting it on the computer._

_Thanks for all the reviews._

_I feel the urge to work harder to make my work better and more enjoyable for all the wonderful and supporting reviews I received._

_Enjoy! ._

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There was nothing to be discerned from what she could ascultate from her knee; some minor crepitus but that was probably just jarred scar tissue floating in the fluid of her knee from previous injuries. Underneath the Kevlar a huge contusion began to form radiating around the entire joint but she would never experience the agony.

A churning sensation and dawning emptiness began to resonate from within the area of her intestines. Instinctively her hand reached to the packs on the left side of her hip only to have the tips of her fingers strike the bottom of the container.

"_Fuck_... _Those God-damn Bastards_!" Her mind snarled.

She quickly began to inspect the rest of the secretive little compartments her suit held.

Only one came with a satisfying touch that didn't result in feeling the empty corners or curves of an empty pocket or case.

The robots, if that's what they were, persistently worked while she remained unconscious to remove all utilities and food packs from her suit, if not for the suit itself she would exist naked in the circular cell that held her.

She drew out the small box; it was a GCTT ration…

The back of her tongue flattened to allow the contortion and presence of nausea creep out of her throat and swell in the space of her mouth.

GCTT rations, like GCTT liquor, were known to kill anyone daring enough to ingest them.

Hell only knew the tiny box and whatever aberration of food that swelled inside, the expiration date probably occurred 5 years ago.

Removing her eyes from the stenciled Neo-Russianan text for Gafilla Fish, _whatever that was_, she placed the box back in the unchecked pocket with a satisfactory action of dejection.

She would allow herself to become an extreme level of hunger-induced inebriation before even pondering over the idea of opening the ancient box and glancing upon what lay inside.

A hiss sounded somewhere in the incalculable amount of space within the darkness around the cylindrical area of her prison.

A slit of light appeared…

Then a rectangle of light, showing the radiant shape of a door's frame appeared from the darkness making her squint. She still managed to force her mind in its visual blindness to calculate the amount of footage in the space outside the glowing red bars by means of measuring the slayed path of light that stretched on the floor from the lit opening..

_About 10-15 feet, a considerable length for the non-imprisoned area to ensure that the captor could meander in the area without having the captive able to grab at him_. She mentally checked this and worked hard to adjust her corneas to the brilliant, white light.

A tall, thick shaped being suddenly appeared to stand in the way of the light from the connector to the lit outer room; the light leaked between the large sculpting of muscular arms, broad chest, powerful legs and helmet covered head.

It stepped through and a sudden hiss sounded again as the door shut, blackness severing the white light till utter darkness consumed all again.

She existed momentarily blind from staring into sudden brightness only now to be saturated in darkness aside from the gentle red glow radiating off the bars of light that imprisoned her.

In her transitory blindness she heard a progressive, clunking sound travel towards her.

The creature stood just at the tip of the splayed red glow, 2-3 feet away from the bars.

Her eyes finally adjusted to look upon the metallic features of a familiar humanoid robot. It was the creature from the engine room.

It did not breathe, so she could not hear what variation of emotion it had. The movement of its body, however, held similar qualities to that of a human being. She could perceive its plans of what would be done to her through its physical display and hopefully an answer would come to assist her in figuring how to be freed from this prison.

Looking up from her thoughts she found the metallic maw displaying a rather murderous looking set of teeth. It bared its teeth at her; the sharp, pointy death-needles gleamed red against the light in their immaculate white coloring.

As she watched, somewhat stirred to defense in eying the razor-sharp incisors, the curvature of the mouth drew up and the impossible idea she came to, _smacked against her brain_, that the creature standing before her bared its teeth in a smile.

Her head cocked as her eyes lessened from their defensive squint to further study in bemusement, the asinine display the creature presented to her.

_Why he was smiling at her_…

He wasn't sure.

He ended the pathetic attempt to be friendly very quickly; most likely the Warriess before him probably thought it a sign of weakness. Her eyes were tracking his movements and gestures with a fierce stillness.

Eying her back he noted the many slashes and light indents of scars on her Maximal-like face; the gentle light enhancing them. Upon what he figured to be her mouth a defined slash of a scar moved in a diagonal slant. Upon her barely colored, somewhat shapely lips its darker pinkness gave her mouth an attractive, exotic touch that sparked his adoration for things within the relativity of battle.

He envied her; the many proud wounds and scars he received with every battle against the Predacons and battles during his time on Cybertron did not exist. With every trip to the CR Chamber the proud marks of battle were removed by the chamber machine's healing process.

If the scars were not a defined signature of her battle prowess then surely the cold possession that emanated from her organic eyes described her full war-seasoned persona and lack of fear.

The eyes, being organic, were without the simplest of LED light to display the origin of a pupil. At first, when his eyes met hers they appeared black and flat, but upon looking more he could see shards within the cold darkness that were her eyes. The light forced the alienated shards drifting in her eyes to appear red but perhaps they were of a different color.

As he stared into her eyes the shards seemed to grow in the space of the iris and he felt like the very essence of his spark would be sucked from his body if he continued.

Not to be the one to shirk; he let out an abrupt, loud snort that took her by surprise long enough to end the stare between them.

Composing herself in less than a nano-cycle her face tensed again and her mouth drew into a curve just below the arc of a frown; her chest heaved subtly in long periods.

Without knowledge of respiration he had not the slightest clue as to why her chest would undulate so.

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The overhead lights held a gentle brightness and complimented the lacking area of the room. In the middle a table erected from a thick pole that rooted from the floor. On the walls surrounding, several flat cabinets lined in a single row at chest level.

Rhinox hovered around the table; several intricate devices were laid out next to where his nonworking arm rested. The table's surface was currently dominated by the various objects and tools that were held within the strange she-creature's exoskin.

A metal, radiation scanner existed equipped within his huge four fingered hand. The activation and control buttons were pressed down by his thumb and the other by his index. The digital, graphics producing lens wedged in a ring of metal connecting to the elaborate device his hand clutched, swept over the small, stubby firearm Dinobot recently confiscated from the female. The lens inverted the colors and outlined certain dimensions and aspects in the gun's internal structures.

In front of his inactive hand and several futuristic looking forensic tools a small computer and keypad rested on the table. As he studied the weapon by use of the lens something would arise and prompt him to make note of it. His hand would levitate as if self possessed and begin rapping on the small face of the keypad.

His hand stopped in mid-type at the sound of a pressurized hiss from behind him. Recognizing it as the door he finished his typing and shut off the complex lens, gently placing it on the table's surface he turned around to eye to incoming bot.

Optimus held a stern composure, friendly but addressing. "So any clue that what she is, is…."

Rhinox nodded, "She's organic… That's for sure." Optimus's eye ridges drew up in disbelief. Rhinox shrugged, "A very strong organic…"

Optimus reflected on the creature's appearance; images of the beings that aided their forefathers, the Autobots, in the 3rd great Cybertron War managed to surface whenever he did so.

"Hmm… Rhinox?"

The green and brown bot withdrew from his close contact inspection of the alien weapon through his digital lens to return gaze to the Maximal leader.

Optimus continued, unsure of what his mind lead him to believe, "Do you… Do you think this thing is human…?"

Rhinox's eye ridges quirked, his head bobbed slightly as the core-processor mind inside toiled with the aspects of the idea.

"It is possible… In the 3rd Great Cybertron War; information stored within our historical archives tells us that the species known as humans aided the Autobots against Megatron and his Deceptacon army with their primitive but useful technology."

Optimus's red eyes grew slightly as a great inconclusive theory sprouted within his head to better consider the facets of Megatron's deviant schemes.

"Then… Could this be earth?"

Rhinox shook his head, "not with two moons… Remember?"

"Right…" Optimus lowered his optics to visually prod the massive side of the complex cannon the female possessed that occupied nearly all of the feeble table, which would groan out of weakened support of holding the massive cannon at the slightest shift of pressure on its surface.

Optimus came to another theory, "then perhaps we're on a human colonized planet?"

"Hmm… Maybe; but how many _human_ colonies do you know of are equipped with time travel?"

"What??"

The train of Optimus's thought process horrifically crashed suddenly in the middle of its gentle progressive journey, killing all of the conscious thought passengers on board.

Rhinox reactivated the complex lens device. "While scanning the objects with the electron nano-scope I found in this piece of equipment, irregular patterns and displaced anomalies within the molecular structure."

"And what does that mean?" His train of thought still lay on its side, a huge fire rising with smoke like a pillar from the top.

"It means that she's entered here by means of a quantum, chrono-alteration rift…"

Optimus stared, eyes thinned with incomprehensive bemusement.

"She traveled through time to get here… Look."

Optimus bent down like the green one commanded to look at the animated lens.

It focused on the small gun and by amazing telephoto process the image shown on the glass zoomed up on the gun until finally nothing could be seen except of millions of tiny blue-grey dots that were closely adjoined. The scope had focused so small that it now displayed the very molecular structure of the gun.

Off to the side a strange jagged hole punctured the dots, around it a line of what could only be cross-referenced in appearance relative to that of feather alloy, except neon lilac colored, rimmed the hole.

"What is that…?"

"It's a molecular irregularity… You see the light purple stuff, that's a phenomenal structure anomaly. Its obvious she traveled through time because only by traveling through time could the molecules be displaced in such vast proportion without undoing the object's entire sustaining structure."

"But we may have traveled through time and we don't have these tiny holes…" Optimus thought aloud.

Rhinox looked to him, quick to scientifically correct the Maximal leader.

"Actually we do… They're just not nearly as large, molecularly speaking."

Rhinox turned back to examine the firearm again. "Ours are not as large because we were protected from the quantum-stellar radiation of time travel by the thick lining of our ship... I'm guessing that with such large irregularities that her time-travel technology is still very experimental."

Optimus frowned, seeing that such a retort could only lead to the fact that they were yet again stuck in a metaphorical ditch about the female's species as well as origin. "So there's no knowing where or when she's from exactly…"

"Without asking her personally… _Yes_."

"Hmm…" Optimus remained facially frowning as another thought came to mind. "I better see how Dinobot's doing; it's been at least half a mega cycle since he went to visit the female."

With that the Maximal leader turned and strode out the door.

Rhinox returned all his attention back to the complex nano-scope. Eying the mysterious properties he could barely begin to imagine was such could be that held the holes from completely molecularly fissuring the entire structure and destroying it. In his energon-pump, he knew the female would undoubtedly have the same irregular gaps in her own molecular system.

"_With such irregularities its amazing she still manages to survive. Let alone exist at all_…"

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The incessant chattering and occasional snorts from the creature had passed the state of irritation from loss of translation and now simply pressed her mind into a state of extreme boredom.

Even if she had a hint of what the language could be, its identity of being something familiar still clung to her brain like a malignancy, the robot's unusual nasally but deep, growling and snorting voice knocked away at the fragile foundation of her comprehension.

It stopped its long drawl suddenly.

Her brain, shaken from its drift at the sudden cease of the white noise of the robot's speaking, prompted her eyes to meet it once again.

Dinobot stopped talking when he realized she no longer studied him with an intense gaze and instead decided to pan about the room lethargically.

_If it wasn't painfully obvious before that she couldn't understand him the realization now practically rebounded against the front of his cranium_.

Her gaze returned to him but this time it was agitated and closed to the idea of study.

"I'm guessing you didn't understand a word I just said…" He shrugged.

The corners of her mouth drew up but her lips remained together.

She smiled at the pitch she heard from his last statement, it sounded subtly disappointed, a clear sign that he had come to the conclusion of the barrier between them.

_Smart creature_… She thought.

He smiled back, "_Smart female_…" He noted that the wry expression she held could only mean that she understood his understanding of her total lack of understanding him verbally.

She stopped the smile as her boredom prompted a liquid craving. Though she figured it wouldn't understand her she decided to say it aloud anyway,

"Can you get me a beer…?"

_Hope ya like what I write…_

_TK-Productionz_


	13. Chapter 13

_TK-Productionz: HOO-ha! Another chappie!!_

_And its all thanks to __Maiden-of-the-Elements__… I was in a funk but the comments posted brought me out of it._

_Thank you:_

_lady-warrioress__, nannon, __KisaraCrystal__NarNarz__, Shojin Anime, __lil shiny__, and Old Grouch._

_Your comments have been insightful and are probably the only reason I continue to post this story on of course I can't forget my two personal friends, _

_Murasaki Hikari__ and __Depths__, the first two who reviewed my story and gave me the confidence to go on._

_Enough of me writing as if I'm in a Miss America pageant or winner of an Oscar…_

_ONTO THE STORY!!!!_

She couldn't believe it, one sentence uttered and they were a quintuple of excited monkeys. Like parents reacting to the first word ever uttered by their infant these strange robots acted the same to her, even when some of the things uttered were of the most blood-curdling, soul crushing profanity and rhetoric.

_Well she wasn't getting dinner but she sure was getting one hell of a show_…

The strange, varying sized and colored robots would look at her astonished, then turn to each other and squabble something in their familiar sounding language eccentrically.

The two largest, who she dubbed _Grey Leader_ and _Big Green,_ were the two that seemed the most intrigued. The yellow one, _Spots_ as she called him because of the skinned fur of a Cheetah's head he wore as a proud chest plate, stared at her with brightly illuminated (literally) yellow, mechanical eyes and an open, smiling mouth. His demeanor could only successfully compare with the awe and romance of a child witnessing the performance of a circus for the first time.

The Navy blue and Tan one, the only one she saw regularly, if regularly could be fit into the duration of only an hour and a half, looked pleased and happy to hear what she had to say. Even though most of the things uttered to it were hateful insults on:

'_How ugly it was and how next time it wouldn't be so lucky to choke her because next time it would exist as nothing more than melted parts in the middle of a large, explosion caused crater_.'

The only one not acting completely like a trained monkey would have to be _Rat_, the especially unusual looking small one of the group. She dubbed this one with such a name because of the vermin-like buck teeth that connected to its maxilla jaw. With its large, red angular eyes it watched her suspiciously and crossed, uncrossed its arms in repeated fashion. _Spots_ continued to create gestures towards the suspicious robot that signified a persuasion for the copper colored small one to relax. _Rat_ turned out to be quite expectedly stubborn and refused _Spots_ requests.

Its frowning suspicion paled when she glared right into its large red eyes and bared some teeth to further enhance the look of hate. It uncrossed its arms and took a jump back out of caution, thought it already stood 3 feet away from her reach.

She unhooked her icy glance and smiled with pleasure at how powerful the trademark glower seemed now, strong enough to spook creatures outside of her own species.

_Maybe gritting her teeth in such a way was a little overdone but the expression could not be any more perfect to keep the robots from attempting any ideas of provoking her._

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Rhinox took a break from watching the female to study Primal; the Maximal leader's features were subject to the powerful expression of intrigue and study. His Simian fingers cupped the white bracket encasing his chin and jaw line, scratching at the jutting metal in impulse.

"Something troubling you?" Rhinox's whiskey voice provoked a startled jump from Optimus; his mind eons away trying to deduct why a human could possibly be on this planet.

He recovered his composure quickly and his eye ridges furrowed only slightly to convey a thought process of analysis. "It's nothing really, just…"

Rhinox protracted his head to listen better, the female was speaking again and thus provoked the real racket to sound, the quarreling and raucous of _The Three Stooge-Bots_, Rat-Trap, Cheetor and Dinobot. The noise was just below deafening.

Optimus continued unaware of the growing puddle of agitation that formed in Rhinox's mind in trying to hear the Leader over the three squabbling.

"We know that she's sentient, we know that she can't speak our language… But what we don't know _still_ is where she came from and how she managed to get into our base."

"Hmmm…" Rhinox mumbled; the noise of the three obstructed a steady flow of thought from traveling to his processor. His optics drew away from Primal for a moment when Dinobot fashioned movement into what appeared a strange position from the corner point of his optic.

Rhinox's golden brow quirked when he found the reserved, proud warrior now lowered to all fours on the floor, his nose within inches of the burning sting of the red holomatter-energo restraining beams.

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The raucous died within a nano-cycle of him placing his hands on the floor. He noted the phantom presence of optics upon him; embarrassment reached up and seized the cyber-neurons that controlled his peripheral mechanics.

His head lifted to stare directly into the female's eyes.

_Embarrassment would be the least of his worries if his spark was sucked out_.

For the first time in what seemed a stellar lifetime a gaze that was not his own held power and the ability to strike whoever receiving with a psychological paralysis.

Here he crouched, one on one, their faces would collide if the bars did not exist and repel their heads in precaution of burning.

Her movements were slow and rigid, so slow in fact that at first he did not suspect her attempt to move at all. Not until he saw her head and body appear to be shrinking. Her gaze remained strong but at least by miracle the growing distance weakened the psychosomatic clasp on his spark.

_His energon pump could steadily begin to beat again_.

Positioning himself, his body existed in such a stationary form he felt as fragile as glass when he began to move again.

She didn't move that far, he could see when he finally pulled himself into a seated neutral warrior stance that rested most of his weight onto his patellar joints. His feet pulled ceremoniously under the steel, spherical greater tuberosities of his gluteus.

_She crouched just out of grabbing distance._ He noted. Measuring the distance she placed between them.

Her facial mechanics relaxed, aside from her eyes.

He vibrated his cyber larynx and cleared his throat. Inviting the possibility of having his spark swallowed again his optics bore directly into hers; projecting as much alpha behavior that could be conceived. Though it paled in comparison to the natural defense and aggression she possessed in the moment. Her black eyes were gently 3/4's open. The lids encasing them gave a very feral glare, both lazy and extremely aware, a perfect animal hunter in his optics. In her crouched stance she resembled considerably to the vicious, large cat that Tigatron chose to as his alternate form. The scars on her hardened face gave off a dangerous body linguistic of hazard.

He smiled victoriously when a sudden snarl and contortion of his face made him the winner in their little battle of "most aggressive glares".

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First she thought the creature attempted to grab her; the haze of building starvation ever present and blinding her judgment. Her body left abandoned, at the mercy of being piloted by her natural, beastly instinct.

That is why she found herself crouched in the very space opposite of the creature next to the prison. She blinked, quickly realizing her eyes were still open; _hell knew what she ogled_.

The blue and tan creature; she refused to name her almost-killer, it would be unjust of her to act against her equal by so easily disregarding it like an object by giving it a name as she did with the rest; now glared at her in a seated position.

For a few moments in her drunkenness of starvation, and the familiar masculine build the robot possessed she decided that "_it_" would no longer suffice for referral of such an obviously masculine looking being.

She found _him_ looking at her; her spine gave a small tumult in looking at the jagged face he wore.

All this time she stared without attempting even the slightest conscious effort to assert her self, but in finding his movement slow and cautious; a wide stare in his red glowing eyes she felt proud of the alternate use of mindlessness and instinct. The creature exercised even more caution than the quick episode she experienced.

She remained still, her emotional reaction drained due to the hunger. She was stripped to remain with nothing but indifference when the creature's face suddenly pulled into a darkened, glaring expression. Her eyes somehow managed to widen and the hardness of her face slackened as she watched, both irked and amazed at the similarities and differences to human traits displayed within his face.

His eyes were much too rectangular and mildly large in comparison to the little slit holes of eyes on a human face. They were not bugging or insect-like, just reasonably larger than hers and unnaturally symmetrical. The nose, what she figured for a robot was more for aesthetic display rather than actual function, resembled in shape to the typical stereo-type of a purebred Arab. Though she did not possess such a nose in her strange mutate of having strong Anglo undertones, such as a very small "swede nose" the shape of it reminded her very much of the area North-East of her homeland.

_Pointy, but flatter and_... _Blue_.

With the lights turned on in the brig area she could actually see the physical exteriors of her enemies. The shiny painted metal she found to exist as their skin, the somewhat sadistic display of animal flesh they wore as armor; some of them even using the limbs as actual prosthetic appendages.

_Grey leader_ used the distal ends of the lower arm and hands of a Gorilla as actual limbs for his own arms. She stared in puerile awe at his mastery over the well preserved organic limbs, using them in fashion superior to most of the below par peripheral abilities of her decreed squadron. She mentally smiled; the limbs he used were like an organic opposite to the mechanized, steel limbs amputees in her world exercised.

On her previous, near killer she saw the very rugged if not in her eyes exaggerated form and armor he wore. Donned with lacquered, if not actually metallic bones of unnamed killed across his thorax and abdomen, as well as both anterior and posterior of his metal composed shins. His arms appeared much bulkier and treacherous than the already incredible build that they were before in the shadows. Living amongst muscle-headed marines most of her life hypertrophied limbs, especially biceps, were a common trait of her native scenery. Seeing the tan chops of meat on the robot before her, she wondered if any of the army men she fornicated in past years even came within range of the diameter and mass now on display. The muscle tone enhancing beige stripes that shot out horizontally from the medial side or inner part of his arms triggered her mind's delirium to visually swagger over the massive arms. Remembering as her independently acting eyes drank in the erotic extremities; that big arms definitely existed as the key point that lead her to fornicate certain men and leave behind others not so endowed in the peripheral limbs department.

She quickly shook herself from the treacherous route her mind began to embark on.

Sexual arousal would only leave her in even more of a weakened state and plus….

_He's__ A ROBOT_

She found, luckily, something to reduce the lacking of drought in her disrepair loins.

The entirety of her physical sex still remained a mystery to her as well as any sound educated physician. Her lower half was robbed completely of any sensation due to the mercury dys-replacement accident occurring after a routine chrono-travel mission six years ago. The accident left her in the state she existed from now on, with no such sensation in the lower half, but by miracle and experimental procedure the scientists operated on her in surgery, she remained able to walk and move the limbs.

Yet somehow by phenomenon, in the organic mass swelled around her groin some of the cervix and quite possibly the stem of her uterus still remained vulnerable to sensation. The theory was that too much tissue existed around the deeper part for it to become effected. Her labia and clitoris however received full effect of the nerve destroying mercury radiation and ceased in function, just as well as her possible career of being a lesbian.

_Like scissoring would ever match the full furor of a male thrashing against her with his rod bashing inside her_.

For her to feel anything the phallic utility would have to exist within a foot-long length, anything shorter or God forbid, normal sized did not even give the slightest in arousal. The foot long requirement was a discovery she made not too long ago when one night she decided to indulge in mind-warping narcotics only to find herself when finally out of the massive drug intake's control in the early dawn, two days later in an unknown place undulating in long-lost passion while naked and skewered on a very dull-tipped metal fence rod.

Since that fateful dawn she had not since found an equal or anything even capable of prodding more than just the slightest trickle of vaginal fluid. Instead she found preoccupation else where on the battle-field.

If she could not have the physical answer for "_the meaning of life_" she has acted in 6 years as a full time symbol of "_The Circle of Life_".

The draining sensation died at the flick of a heartbeat to spy his hands. If such a description would suffice for the clawed, pronged digits that sprouted from his wrists. Visually they appealed more to the nature and function of clawed feet. As if in the strange transformation from raptor to robot she witnessed just after coming in contact with him; an anomaly she still refused to admit was real, the legs of the raptor suddenly would jerk and shift to become his bulging arms.

_It made sense though_…

She felt as though madness finally came to reap her mind as she figured the strange animal skins on the others gave them ability to mold and contort to disguise themselves as animals.

She knew now that she existed completely mad, but decided not to fret over it. Not wanting to jinx her self in realizing that she still remained sane for the fact that those sane worry about becoming insane constantly, while those truly crazy are just focused on having a great time…

As far as losing her sanity, she desired to have a good time, even if insanity had not reached her.

Her head remained still as her eyes fell only slightly to continue studying him. The angling of her eyes in near stationary slowness to appear as if they remained staring towards the face was a very effective old military trick proved quite useful in the study of an enemy without the burden of conspicuous element.

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He studied her some more, being mindful not to allow his eyes to dart too much. When addressing another warrior death could easily occur if the warrior found the other "_looking at their armor too much and studying their eyes and gaze too little_".

His stare drew down from her face and the intriguing pink scar across her lips to begin a quick indulgence in studying what metal or mysterious element she chose to compose her armor.

The protective skin held simplistic but immense details, lines of three dimensions and all the same color of a speckled graphite. The armored skin's color appeared in the same speculated sensation and appearance of the grey rocks he found at the base of the river below the Axalon.

His optics stopped in their quest when the route came to a sudden halter at the site of twin, horizontally-jutting mountain tops. He eyed them peculiarly and then stiffened upon realizing, even in his great stupidity, what they were…

Like any species, even the sentient creatures of Cybertron, were completed and given balance with a female counter part and something to identify them as female. The components of the chest were alike for both species; that he could see as he openly stared at the pair of chest protrusions.

_They were similar in size_ _to the feminine markers Blackarachnia possessed, perhaps a bit smaller, but in a likeable showing of reduction_, he noted unconsciously.

Before she could notice his staring at the thoracic proof of her gender he grabbed her attention toward his face. Which desperately hardened into a glaring frown which he hoped incited a challenge for her to participate by thrusting her own prowess in fight for alpha position. By sake of primus hopefully the glare would register her brain to completely overlook the attention he gave the mammary sect of her body.

Luckily she reciprocated, more than that, he regretted ever drawing her attention to him for the ice in her eyes steadily froze all liquid properties of his life-function hydraulics, his energon pump especially.

The rest of the Maximals watched with deadlocked silence, the battle of hardened glances between Dinobot and the She-creature.

The reserves and selective data of his alternate form's separate, mini-processor were on alert. The asthmatic receptors of the raptor head now covering the front of his torso picked up the natural scent of defensive aggression. The simple mini-processor calculated the scent and stance the female held; then downloaded the stream of data to his conscious, Positronic brain.

As his animal component could sense, he could practically see the growing hostility emanating from her form like radiating ions off unstable Energon ore.

His arm twitched slightly to remind him of the evident damage she could commit. His Energon pump flailed and revolted in panic, shooting waves of adrenal based lubricants in hope to breach the walls that protected his conscious thought and presence of calm to have the liquids drain into the chemical reactor within his processor to hinder his tranquility.

_Well now he had drawn her attention but also her defense_…

Now it would be up to him to find some outlet of peace, something that could create a gateway for the possibility of understanding to come between them.

His optics focused again, though they stared directly at her, the focal point had long ago faded to the recesses of his core processor after the raptor component of his existence had decided to attack his psyche.

Peace, though represented in a sort of oxymoron, was established as he broke the gaze with an abrupt but powerful snarl.

The rest of the assembly jumped in unison with the female.

He smiled, succeeding with such an abrupt auditory discharge to spill the bubbling aggression within the female's mind, leaving it useless.

Her wits were not left shattered for long when her organic eyes once again elevated to look through him.

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His smile held truth in its purity, left tainted with only the slightest stain of wryness for victory over a battle she now saw to be a silly, almost childish duel he instigated.

She had been tricked by a creature she figured to be nothing more than a composition of wires, processing chips and programming that commanded nothing but violence and unbridled aggression. Clearly she saw herself wrong in her idea of him as the creature before her smiled. Not deceitfully, which occurred to her from her anarchist upbringing to be the only message a smile could convey. Instead this curving of the mouth held a happy humor and compassion for getting the best of her with the sudden snarl.

The exchange was rather irritating to her programming but a nice change as she bared her teeth at him, only this time she curved her mouth.

The quick furls that burst from his mouth quickly registered as a relative giggle. Yet another thing due to her upbringing, were usually expression of maliciousness now were signs that initiated a change of expressions to be produced from her.

The two laughed for a few moments, engaging the other to have a juvenile congeniality towards each other. The thing that just happened now was the essentials of a childhood friendship Noose never fully had the chance to participate in due to such an early aged investiture into one of The Order's traveling, child-soldier instatement camps.

Dinobot smiled once more, the expression bursting at the rivets with golden elation. He succeeded in creating effective contact; at last he and the female could begin to understand one another.

Standing up he left with regret, no longer with the ability to attempt communication with her. Optimus Primal had ordered all them to return to their original dealings. Primal assumed the female would have the opportunity to attempt a recharge process once they were gone.

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_It must've been the cloud of hunger_, her mind said after the robot stood up from the ground to return to the mechanized flock that quickly made action to leave the vicinity of her cell.

Only absolute drunkenness from a most empty and shriveled stomach could incite the goofy reciprocation of smiles and laughter she just engaged in.

She did not know the action of happiness… Only its sadistic, little bastard child she witnessed in her enemies, the expression of delight out of the destruction of another.

Noose was not happy, Noose did not smile.

_But she did, and that was what irked her, oppressing her nerves far more than a simple reoccurring hunger pain could do._

_Thee-_

_Thee-_

_THEE-AT'S ALL FOLKS!_

_Hope you liked it!_

_TK_


	14. Chapter 14

_TK-__Productionz__: HOO-ha! Another __chappie__!! Sorry for such a __loooooooooooooooooooong__ wait, good thing nobody held their breath __waiting__ for me to post this next chapter….._

_At least….__ I hope nobody held their breath… I don't think my insurance will cover those __kind__ of damages…. _

_Onto the story!!!!_

He looked to her; words were useless for the onslaught of confusing emotions he brewed for her. Indescribable and limitless in the possible outcomes of meanings his thoughts held about her, he was better off not even attempting to speak. Looking at her his spark suffered onslaught after onslaught of strange thoughts and feelings, feelings outside the boundary of a simple friendship.

He welcomed the vortex of her eyes to suck out his life. The end of his existence would be of greater resolve from someone he desired rather than an enemy.

His hand crept through the space of the bars, she eyed it but did not instantaneously dispose of it. Instead she seemed to be processing several courses of action in response to it.

The wait was horrible but at the same time it acted as a serene asylum for his mind to rejuvenate in. In the end the directive she chose left a large hole in the high density plating of his chest armor near to his spark.

His sensors jolted and alerted in mixed chorus as the sensory detectors honed in on the strange coating her fingers wore. A hard, non-metallic substance felt smooth upon his pseudo-raptor flesh. He shut off his optics for a split second to fully experience the sensation of her hand settling on top of his. It was slow and wonderful, as her fingers reached his hand. He could not help but feel tranquility wash over him as they glided over the bumps and wrinkles of his skin starting from his flattened fingers, rising with the curve of his knuckles till finally they stopped their journey at the base of his wrist.

Her digits were less than half the length of his, dainty and short while his were the long gnarled roots of a tree.

Somewhat terrified with what her reaction would be his hand began to slowly turn palm up from the cold flooring.

The grey digits she possessed, levitated as his extension rotated and to either's astonishment her grey hand gently lowered. Resting in full dainty weight in his palm the hand allowed itself to embraced by his long, clawed fingers.

Somehow through the hard material of her hand warmth began to generate into his palm.

She couldn't classify it as anything, most certainly not any anomaly her mind could produce. Somehow a living warmth conjured from both of them, leaking in and out of her suit to spread into his and hand and back into hers.

She gawked up at him, her sense of perception was half-dead and barely hanging onto the brink of her mind as her eyes met ruby light.

No matter how imbecilic he felt at the moment, it felt right to do it anyway.

Not even sure if he understood the words in his processor he began blindly.

"You and I… You and I are much alike. Cunning, fearless…. Like me, you probably left your squadron in search of something better….. Perhaps you're here now because like me, you refused to be given orders by any dishonorable incompetent who dared to call himself a leader. You even refuse capture… Death is the only thing that could stop you and yet here you are now. Such an unworthy sentence… To be prisoner when you are of such great war-based nobility instead of being rewarded a death in battle. It is a tragedy as horrible as loosing one's honor. Things with such honor as you and I should exist free… Without our own personal freedom neither of us would exist at all…"

Cutting off his vocal projector, he felt a lug-nut or two loosen as he rose shakily from the floor. Though a great weight lifted from his shoulders he still could feel a quiver, not from strained servos but instead it was a natural shudder of relief. The after effects of a successful oration to a tough audience could easily do that to a bot of any caliber.

She watched him speak, regrettably still perplexed by the familiarities of words flung at her. The words existed far just beyond familiar but the meaning….

The meaning of the words existed behind encrypted walls in her mind but the sound that delivered them bore directly into her soul.

A deep emotion emanated behind the sound of his voice that could not be fallacious or pretended. A want for contact and an act of truth registered through her.

This creature, this… _Robot_… Was not communicating with her, he was contacting her soul. The second time her mind returned to him she gazed upon a kindred spirit behind the illuminated eyes. No longer simply chips and wires but an actual ghost in the shell staring back at her; a sense of passion glared as bright as the LED within his eyes.

Her face remained hardened but behind it a glow of her own began to ignite.

Unnatural to her metaphorical dead-bolts that were riveted into her mind, an emotion began to loosen these locks on her soul. Slowly the dead-bolts lost the pressure of such tight screwing and rust caulking. She felt it around her eyes as her black brows lessened in their intensity, that entire area was now slack.

Her eyes continued to have the vicious ability of a black hole but the feeling received as his spark was slowly pulled into them changed dramatically. No longer were her organic eyes the frozen, razor edged conduit that slowly consumed his spark. Warmth began to tunnel in from the walls to melt the tundra. The traces of his spark already consumed basked in a gentle heat.

She seemed to jump an entire new level of comprehension each time they met. Meeting only twice before and yet the fact that she understood his respect for her existed as quite the phenomenon.

The pain of having to leave after such a spiritual connection held voice as his patellar joints grinded against the hinges when he stood up to finally leave. His pointy teeth curved around the brim of his metallic lower lip and began to swiftly remove the blue paint.

Rat-Trap, in all of his wise-aftery, began to summon for him by use of a red button that controlled the room's intercom panel. An annoying guttural buzz thrashed through the air like the gnarled path of a rusty dagger.

He growled loudly, the female gave him a hostile look but at least softness remained to coat the strange hypnotic shards in her eyes.

He exited through the door swiftly, regretful of passing up a last chance to have his spark sucked out.

It was strange to watch him go but not as strange as the pucker her face contorted in.

_What was it that caused the stone indifference of her face to suddenly grow warm and melt__…_?

Surely hunger did not exist as such a powerful debilitation that it could change the entirety of a person's persona. The excuse of hunger as the means in which her guard was lowered acted to soothe the discomfort she felt in examining her current state.

Her lip twitched with agitation as her mind suddenly lowered from shallow thoughts to delve into deeper judgments theorizing why she lowered her glare. Her train of thought nearly crashed and sent her into mental disarray when a certain subject matter was pursued.

_The thought was __hazy,__ it had something to do with the striped biceps_…?

Quickly throwing away the destructive thought she took command back into her face. Almost painfully her eyes snapped back into the cold hardened glare she always wore. She directed it to the ceiling, to threaten it to stop wailing such an annoying guttural buzzing.

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His optics flared as the sensitive lens inside adjusted to the abundant light. Instinctually, a clawed hand rose to block the illumination in prevention of visual overload from the lights.

"_Primus_!! You spent so much time in there…"

Dinobot slowly lowered his hand, a glare fastened to his face.

The copper, slag-head smirked, knowing his words were getting to the ex-pred. "Well I'm glad ta see you've met a creature just as stupid as you, seems ya finally found someone you can keep up with…"

Dinobot let it go. Right now he had a bigger, spark-pounding motive he would have to execute to prove that he was in fact an honorable warrior.

Rat-Trap continued with the insults, though his focus was already drawn back to the screen. His digits pounded on the keyboard in fast random rhythm.

The energon within Dinbot's router systems began to shoot throughout the entire length of his mechanical arteries. His energon pump thrashed so violently he worried that the palpitations would sound in loud clangs and give away his position.

It felt cowardly at first, the action he executed, but it would be set right once a frontal address to the target was made.

His movements were slow, fluid; possibly even rivaling the deadly stalking Tigatron's beast mode was capable of. His metal plantars connected to the floor with such silent ease it appeared that his feet molecularly fused to the floor. His digits curled menacingly as his arms jutted out. Only a foot away from his target he let a mute rattle out of his cyber larynx.

Like a blunt disruption to a beautiful symphony, Rat-Trap turned around in his chair to face him. This stopped the warrior dead in his tracks, brutally mutilating the stagger in which he tried to sneak up on him.

Dinobot's pump squeezed all the energon from its valves as he contorted his body in mid step. The abrupt disturbance to his stalking made him cease up and contort in what only seemed a metal version of post mortem rigamortis.

The pump remained inactive and placed him on the edge of stasis lock as his optics burned out as they peered upon Rat-Trap.

The quirking of his copper brow was the worst, especially since his face appeared so comical.

Just as Dinobot thought he would not suffer anything worse all pits and slag-beholden inferno broke loose as the _robot without an assembly line_ opened his mouth.

"Eyh!!…… What the _frag_ are you doin' Lizard Lips…?"

_An insult_…._and profanity_.

The perfect catalyst to begin assault and hopefully battery upon the copper mech.

He smiled, the simple curve of the mouth did wonder's for his pump's malfunction.

"_I'm sorry_…"

It wafted through the air on sonic waves as weak as a whisper.

The apology was greeted with another fish hook through the optic ridge, the statement failed before it could reach Rat-Trap's audio-receptors.

If not for the action swift to follow; Dinobot would have shot himself in result of such perversion of placing a hand on the vermin's shoulder. He smiled even more at the sound emitted when his free left hand shot back and then blasted forward, striking Rat-Trap's head with such force, it spun in 360 degree rotation.

The copper bot's body slammed into the panel of the control desk causing a few harmless sparks to shoot out from the monitor. Right as the vermin's legs gave out his optics shut down and he limply crumpled to the floor.

Feeling much better now that some damage was dealt to counter the previous act he looked at his soiled and appeased hands. Kicking the collapsed mech to the side he directed his hands to the control desk's keyboard.

His mastery over hacking lacked severely in every detail, lucky for him the system used to monitor and detain his new comrade was a simple bit format program. Through such a severity he finally hit enough random buttons that the control panel registered his typing to be exact to the code for the active controls Rat-Trap had inserted during his shift. A diagram of the room's functions and controls displayed on the screen. Continuing with digits hitting keys blindly it took several unregistered tries before the controls took his command to disable itself. The drawback of his success was that the disabling was in a layer format and included the shutdown of every thing in the brig.

He looked to find the screen holding the recorded surveillance of the room went black. To his ability he managed to shut everything down, except of course the one thing that truly acted to detain such a warrior as her, the holo-restraining beams.

In the black box of the video, white beams glowed, the security camera lacked the ability to produce color. The remaining energy beams glowed strongly in darkness of the holding cell the gentle illumination formed the lines of a three dimensional cylinder. The only trace of the female was the area of white beams obstructed by a dark blot. Most likely she crouched defensively in the absence of light, not by cowardice but the motivation to guard herself against hidden foes. Though her presence did not display any movement, he smiled still, aware that she remained in the cell.

His eyes painfully moved back to the task at hand. The page displayed required a 5 digit access code. He glared down at the crumpled body of Rat-Trap, the little slag-eater was compulsive enough to install a security filter during the short duration in his shift of guard duty.

Code translation was not in his caliber of talent but destruction was. His rotary sword shot through the remote mother board, the force in his arm alone far superior to the flimsy metal and wiring of the mother board. Snapping on the switch that activated the weapon's unique ability he quickly let go of the hilt to prevent an system over load. Electrical surges shot through the weapon as it mercilessly drilled through the mother board, with the surges came sparks and wiring in a geyser from the widening hole as the drill buried.

He smiled to find the glow of the white bars disappear just before the monitor abruptly deactivated.

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She felt her reflexes and natural instincts click into place as the foreboding beams dissipated. Her eyes welcomed the blinding state of the dark, her hearing and perception splayed out in the same probing fashion her arms did as her body set itself on all fours. Still in a crouch, she moved from the space once enclosed in. Her face, low to the ground felt the heat and saw the residue ember of the light projection ports.

Though completely blind she was not disabled. Her acute memory triangulated the distance of the door.

_Only five feet away…_

She became stationary as a sudden force acted to stop her travel.

She glared into the vivid white light and recognized the black figure outlined in the blinding white.

She flexed her powerful muscles as she strategized several different motives for the situation before her. Feeling a familiar quiver from the bloodthirsty muscles of her left arm she decided what was to be done. Though a connection had been set between them, like any other relationship behind enemy lines, she would have to break such bonds and kill her companion.

He stood in front of her, a gun clutched in his hand…. _her gun_. As it drew out to point at her she remained motionless in her crouch, not the least bit surprised. The motive behind pointing her firearm at her was to keep her from attempting any sudden lunges to his form.

Watching him silently her eyes settled completely on his arm as he confidently lowered it to his side. Once at his side the gun flipped between his spidery fingers. The two outer fingers of the three moved until the handle of her gun moved from being utilized in shooting her to a neutral pose. The way the fingers supported her gun made it impossible for any of the fingers to reach the trigger.

Either he was foolish or sensed something in her she was yet to accept.

Instead of jumping to her feet in an almost unseen speed to disarm and then neutralize that which stood in her way of freedom she did nothing. Not shocked or in such mystified behavior that her body was paralyzed, she simply did not remove him from her point of escape because she simply decided that she wanted to do something different for a change. The whole _pounce from her subservient position to take the enemy by surprise_ was so predictable of her. While she slowly died of starvation she didn't want to further her torture by boring herself into slow death as well.

It was after he backed two feet out of the threshold of the door that she decided to get to her feet.

She stepped confidently through the frame, her nervous system in a perfect nook between gentility and perception of aggressive attack.

_6666666666_

_Ooo__!!! A cliff hanger!! How much of a bitch am I? First I keep you all waiting for what was considered half of an eternity for this chapter and now I leave you in suspense…. I'm just as sadistic as Noose!! __Yippie__!!! I didn't know I had it in me to be like her!!! I'll try to get the next chapter posted this week but if I can't… Well I'm very thankful my home address isn't posted on this site so no one can break in and force me to finish the next chapter at knife-point…_


	15. Initiation

_TK-__Productionz__: Hey y'all… sorry for such a delay, as y'all know I'm quite the fucking perfectionist… I'd say 'bit me' but I fear that some of my readers would actually do that if I was to say such a remark… __So….__Yeah…_

_By the way, just as a little warning, NO ONE DIES……. It just seems that way with all the carnage, remember in the show, Tarantulas was blown up into itty bitty pieces in the __ep__ "The Low Road" and was perfectly fine the __ep__ after. So as written before….NO ONE DIES…._

_Oh and thank you all for loving my story so much, seriously, it makes me all warm and fuzzy inside like how your sheets feel when they're first taken out of the drier._

_Before you get to reading I thought you might like to look up a few songs that I have __listed, I decided to give Noose__ a sort of sound-track, here's some songs that I feel describe Noose perfectly._

_The Mercenary-Iron Maiden_

_Keep Hope Alive-Crystal Method_

_Devilution__-High __On__ Fire_

_Anarchy __In__ The UK-The Sex Pistols_

_Uno-Muse_

_Hunger-__Spectre__ General_

_Living the Life I'm Meant __To__ Live-Steel Dragon_

_Anarchy Burger-The Vandals_

_Seven Nation Army-The White Stripes_

_Anarchy-KMFDM_

_Love Songs…_

_Map of __The__ Problematic--Muse_

_Go Back In Time--I-94_

_And of course…__ Bad __To__ The Bone…_

_Now…__ ON-TO THA STORY!!!!!!!!_

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With each step into the soft, silver-walled room; she brought with her an immense tapestry of specific training in subtle defense. Her gait allowed for the presence of peacefulness, while in secret, the balanced steps provided for deadly kicks and sprints for the moment when her near killer would strike.

Her eyes squinted for a second as she bathed in white light from the ceiling. Once adjusted to the light, she gazed around the room; feeling a little better, morale-wise than what was the level when she was smothered in shadow.

When she eyed him she flicked her eyebrow, slightly intrigued at how he managed to hold steady under her gaze.

Looking at him now, the broadened warrior stance he held, she figured him to be of the same violent training she was raised in.

Gliding over to him, she took her dwarf rifle from his gently raised claws. By accident one of her fingers stroked his palm as it curled around the handle of the gun. Drawing it back she felt that finger curl tightly into a roll as if numb or burnt.

The fact that the accidental contact felt oddly comforting amidst the increasing haze of starvation left her in a mental limbo in which assimilation was the only escape.

With a shrug of her brow she allowed her hunger induced delirium to wash over her in a sudden wave of feelings, feelings in which she never wished to express before.

Between the two of them a nostalgic mist had begun to tingle and fog up their perceptions of the situation. After the mist, a feeling of warmth rose and sent them into the pleasure of being in either's long lost element. The gentle heat felt from the reunion of seasoned warriors addressing one another did well to stop time as they regarded each other. For either warrior the presence of an equal was not something either had the pleasure of receiving in what were countless ages.

To have the silent contact between each other felt like settling into the mineral waters of a rejuvenating spring. Both knew the other was neither green nor virgin to their shared passion and lifestyle of battle.

She surveyed the room, her senses still on guard for logical reasons but at least those senses were warm with familiarity of another like herself. Her eyes drank in the fair amount of damage and caution fused into the room. Upon first looking at the steel anti-blast battle shields welded to what could only be the window of the cell, she stifled the urge of a sadistic giggle. Upon recovering her composure she eyed it again to receive flattery at how she must have presented herself as such a threat that a window into her prison was out of the question. Delight bubbled in her chest in the same, slow rhythm in which sparks emerged in shots from both the desecrated monitoring panel and from the sentry crumpled on the floor.

When she turned back to her familiar she saw one of his muscled arms gesture toward the room's exit. Before his eyes left her she shook slightly at the sense she perceived from his neutral gaze. From what she felt in the glowing red eyes, the passion and emotion lit within them resembled the gaze she received from the men in past platoons who felt a connection to her.

She felt crazy to sense that, after all he was a _robot_. She watched the courage he possessed as his back turned to face her when he pressed the release button for the door. Watching him, he did exactly what she expected when he entered the hall. His armored head whipped in both directions to make sure the coast was clear.

No wonder she felt such a connection to him, he possessed a complete disregard for the others of his group, the action he currently committed proved her previous theory.

Clearly the evidence of the damage of the room, the crumpled guard and his caution exiting the door implied that her release was illicit.

With a coy curve of her lip she followed him out. With each step her want to destroy him became more of an undesired task and less of an impulse.

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She felt a tinge of annoyance creep over her shoulders from the presence of his grip on her wrist as he dragged both of them down the steel corridor. Digging the tread of her combat boots on the floor's grating; she bit down on her pride and allowed herself to be led by her near-killer as if he were her caretaker and she was a wayward child.

Feeling every clank from his metal and raptor skin feet, his processor began to wander slightly while his body mindlessly rushed down the hall. Like any intellectual being he had a contrast to his natural compulsive tendencies. The voice acted like a conscience to nag at him whenever he pursued a detrimental goal. It told him _he was crazy to do this_ as he led the two of them to the examination office which held her massive cannon. It stressed that _there was no way he could successfully pull this off_ dimming his inner audio receptors to it more and more as he intervened against it he couldn't help but imagine his conscience as more of an annoying spouse than a voice of reason.

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He surveyed the room, his vision flickering on and off; the color ratio of the room went from black and white then fluctuated to normal several times. With pain stepping in to fragment his perception, his damaged optics fell on Dinobot's sword buried into the monitor with abject indifference.

For several nano-cycles his fluctuating vision just stared at the foreign object as if it were a new accessory to the computer's control panel and hard drive below.

When the message finally came through the thick mist of his blinking sense of consciousness his body shot up as if it were a lit Roman candle.

Though motivated quite thoroughly by the imbedded weapon, his process of action was extremely debilitated. When he wanted to move forward his legs practically did the opposite. By some miracle, he made his way to the standard alarm panel installed next to the door.

Seeing how bad his proprioception and overall movement was, he knew he still remained wounded from Dinobot's sucker punch. Had the demolition-expert known the ex-pred held such crippling power in just his fist, he would've stuck to the simple non-confrontational pleasure of talking behind his back.

The jutting frame of the panel did well to adjust his weight; he clung to it as if the Axalon was suddenly turned on its side.

Before his fist rose to break the emergency glass and stamp the alarm button his flickering sensors drew his attention away from the control panel. As his fingers prodded the dented and slightly cracked shell of his right brow ridge, the mandible hinges of his jaw twisted to clench his mouth as jolt of pain erupted from his brow. A spark flickered and he felt his equilibrium circuitry become temporarily faulty. Glowing, liquid energon stained his middle and index finger.

Now he was mad. It wasn't so bad that the _frag__-head_ showed his true colors by disobeying everyone and acting on his own agenda. It was fine that he let free the murdering she-beast; it was even fine by Rat-Trap that the ex-pred had done him the favor of destroying the antiquated monitor he was currently sentenced to decompose in front of. What sent Rat-Trap over the edge was the ugly shiner he received on account of being the _bot_there when Dinobot initiated his act of insubordination.

He smashed the glass, his face, a dark frown. His Right optic fought hard against the trickles of energon fuel leaking from crack in his eye ridge, the furrow of his brow forced the crack to rip open more.

His finger dipped into the crack once more, the exposed neural cyber-axons reverberated a red hot pain when his fingers brushed over them. Looking at the radiant stain on his fingers he reached for the red button, not caring if his energon fuel would drip on the button or not.

The klaxon of the alarm blared out through the entire innards of the ship.

"Ya gonna be an aft-hole… Well I can be one too…" he sneered, his right optic finally dimmed completely as the leaking energon created a thick stripe from the continuous trickling.

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They both found each other cringing in similar fashion at the beckoning of an accursed alarm.

No doubt, the sound of an alarm came as an omen to both seasoned veterans of war. Charging down the hallway they shared in delight at smiling at each other at the similarity of reactions incited from the alarm. An even longer, shared smile formed when Dinobot courageously slid his grip from around Noose's wrist to have their hands clasped palm to palm. The moment's power and impromptu element intensified when Noose's fingers willingly wrapped to the back of Dinobot's hand in a pressure that was not bone crushing. The presence of the hard, smooth material on his synthetic raptor flesh worked to lower the shots of adrenal lubricants coursing through his body in effect from his bold, previous move.

Stampeding down the hall the two companions used the veil of the blaring klaxon to giggle aloud in immature pleasure. The alarm did well to protect the pair's normally fierce reputations if anyone else was present in the hall.

In front of a pressured slide-door, Noose stood quietly amidst the blaring sound of chaos to watch her _male_, near-killer proceed in his un-predictable transactions.

Again, he expressed a strong trust and fearlessness when he turned his back to destroy the door's security panel.

As he worked to open the door to where ever he was leading her, she knew that once she stepped through that door, her relationship with him would probably be dismantled.

Since the door put up quite the battle against having itself open at the moment; she could indulge in the silly nature of smiling. She took a few moments to cherish the rugged features on her near-killer.

_How the striped biceps_…. _Or were they his thigh muscles_…? The proper classification of his arms depended on the fact that those arms were the legs he stood on in his raptor form.

How the muscles he now wielded at the moment for his arms could get so rippled. How could they bulge even more than they already did?

As he carelessly chucked a chunk of circuit board and wires behind him and over her head, she found her absent body's tongue licking her lips at the sudden act of aggression. As his hand dug into the hole he created in the wall, she decided to turn a blind eye to the abject horror her mind expressed when her thoughts over him became lusty. She ignored her prudent, inner-voice's nagging at the sudden thought she had.

In his grunts and familiar sounding curses she found the want to touch him. To fornicate with him, or if he resisted, rape him was in fact a cosmic joke, but she was willing to let curiosity drive her to see if he truly _possessed_ anything.

By cruel fate the pressure door opened, closing the door in her mind that allowed such perverted thoughts to enter through.

She watched him step through and found herself ridden with a child-like disappointment. Stepping through the door herself, she couldn't help but gawk slightly in astonishment as the first thing her eyes laid upon turned out to be her gun.

_She thought it was an exit, she thought it was a trap, hell_…. _She didn't even __understand__ half the things she thought about the door they entered through_.

The last thing she thought was that the room they now stood in was the room in which all of her gear and weaponry resided.

Most of her shock came at finding her old friend resting on its side on a table in the middle of the small room completely unguarded and intact. Looking at it more, the room did not appear as an encasement for her gun but rather a luxury suite. The table it laid on appeared more and more like a bed for it with each blink of her eyes.

As the inner-locking features came together to seal her gun to her left arm she felt a quicksilver of ice strike at the jolt of the deadbolts locking to her person. Lifting the gun, her weight shifted flawlessly, her posture set back in place with a silent crack of her spine. Finally, she was whole again, only somehow the feeling didn't present itself as a comfort.

Dinobot had to work hard to keep his jaw from falling.

_Such power, such grace_…

He remembered how Rat-Trap and Cheetor had to carry the cannon together in order to lift it off the ground. Truly, he finally met a being equal in strength to his own.

She set her eyes upon him and the feeling of incompletion flowed in thick, oily splashes about her form. Amidst her reluctance, she pondered why she even possessed a forethought in the first place.

_He was the enemy, so why didn't she just shoot him already. He imprisoned her and_……

_He was a chronologically-improbable anomaly and therefore he must be protected_.

It was a perfect excuse she could use to fool herself into not shooting her near-killer.

_"__Near-killer_…."

He was more than that at this point…

Since both had spilled each other's blood, they could no longer acknowledge each other without by some power relating to the other. No longer did she just stare at a metallic being in front of her, she stared at a reflection of herself. Before her was a living projection that shared her blood, essence of being and will.

_Unless by some very unlikely stressor, she would never find a reason to shoot herself; so certainly it would be illogical to shoot a projection of her_…

Not to mention who could estimate the cataclysmic outcome of humanity's survival if she were to shoot him? Obviously, if he already existed in this period of human history, then humanity still existed in her time…

Even if he was the harbinger of death for her species, she really doubted he would risk the chance of genocide while she stood before him with her cannon locked to her arm.

She drew her eyes back into focus, the debate she just had with herself was extremely taxing on her body. Looking at him again, she had to re-focus her eyes when her starvation made it look like the stoic being in front of her just bodily shook himself.

_That had to be the hunger talking_; the shake was as unmistakable as it was absurd.

Most males she had come into contact with over the years would often shake themselves whenever they thought she wasn't looking. Usually, soon after, the shake would result in the male finding himself rendered with deep, erotic desire for her.

The outcome of such desire for her generally hindered on what mood she was in at the moment, and the length of the male's penis.

She never knew how or why but her strange patches of well-muscled masculinity and slight physical flares of femininity drove men to her as if she were a buxom creature. In truth, she knew she was not. Standing at six two, equipped with an arm that bulged in diameter of 22 inches, a scarred face and a permanent scowl, she actually existed as anything but feminine. Still, men flocked to her more than any other female officer she had seen. Not that there were many female officer's other than herself, if she decided to consider herself female. Even outside of the barracks, she saw a regular amount of action in areas equipped with made-up prostitutes and exotic dancers. Perhaps it was her lack of femininity that had men chasing after her like hung dogs after a bitch in heat.

His connection to her became estranged the longer he spent looking at her with massive-death-cannon in hand. As his mind became more indulgent; a prick of lust had settled amongst his thoughts like a hazardous splinter. To jar the sudden onset of thought, he resorted to irrationally shaking himself. Such thoughts he possessed in the moment were pleasurable but terribly dishonorable. She was a warrior, his equal; both had shed each other's life-sustaining fluids. To _have_ thoughts lusting over her, especially those tempting femme-like lips and impressive scar was immoral as it was dishonorable. Reality needed to resurface and his bodily shake plus the blaring klaxon was the right force to recreate it.

Now back to reality, he grew uncomfortably aware of the duration in which they remained in the ship as well as the continuing sound of the alarm.

"Come on! Let's go!!"

He dug his claws into the raptor skin of his palms in after-effect. Who knew how she would take his sudden spat of urgency?

Out of some form of omnipotent compassion, she did not smite him where he stood. Instead, she rested her gun gracefully as her other arm began to set the rest of her alien paraphernalia back into the suggested compartments located all over her form. Setting a vicious knife into a sheath on her thigh she flashed him a knowledgeable smile. The smile did wonders to lower the elevated pressure in which energon shot through his systems.

After switching on the cannon-like monstrosity, it came to life with a powerful hum; she practically trotted over to where he stood by the door. No doubt, the knowledge transcribed through his optics told him she felt whole again with all her deadly gear in place.

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From yonder she took in the near moonless night, its intensity veiled by a plethora of clouds that softened its lights as if composed of an opaque surface. Where the gentle light did not lace through, an ebony pool blotted the entire span of the sky, making it impossible to diffuse from the land.

Never before in her life had she seen the beauty of an untouched sky. Each night in her own time the evening sky was vandalized with the blinding, unnatural brightness of green-house gas emissions and far off city lights.

The pool of ink, as far as her eyes could see, was enchanting with how the darkness appeared as a never-ending void. The dark void created an absolute silence; she could barely hear the stirrings of nocturnal animals and insects. As a gentle night wind caressed her, not detecting it before hand; she could only react to its cold silkiness as it enveloped her.

It was a night for release, a perfect setting to prevent detection, perfect for her to be successfully freed. Eyeing how the 2 moons were constantly veiled by an unending clot of clouds, he was completely certain about how perfect a night it was for her to escape.

He was unhappy to send her off; curiosity continued to steadily gnaw at his circuits, he desired the chance to learn more about her.

He turned to face her, just now registering her height and physical description. She stood at most a foot shorter than him. From what he concurred, her stature was a proud six feet tall. It was an ideal height for a warrior to be. At six feet, no labeling or predicting could be successfully executed without such actions being taken by a very painful surprise.

Seeing her eyes were occupied with the surroundings rather than him, he took a chance at eyeing her form for the second time in all their encounters.

To him, she was absolutely buck-some, without any hint of frailty he was drawn in by her masculine beauty. Her hips curved just enough to have a hybrid display of voluptuous splendor and rugged muscularity. In "lament young-bot terms" she was an _overload on the optic circuitry_.

Obviously sensing his optics on her she turned to face him. For once, the old warrior felt young and naïve again. Feeling those glassy shards cut into his spark, he felt that he could believe in true love again. Knowing this was goodbye between them he knew that this farewell would have to be between warriors rather than friends, or whatever they were now.

"_To my comrade.__ May o__u__r battles be as constant as the universe __itself_."

The statement was a worthy and honorable goodbye to address a warrior of the highest caliber in which he saw her as. After such a passionate set of words, he straightened and proudly saluted her.

What she thought to be nothing more than another stream of pestering and familiar language, she snapped from her drifting thoughts when he suddenly gave her a salute.

It had been 15 years since the last time she could remember actually receiving and/or giving a salute. Her duties were of confidential, unceremonious and at best un-reported. Though she stood distinguished with some of The Order's highest levels of decoration and earned status; she usually lived each day of her existence in the army appearing no greater than a simple grunt in the barracks. Indeed, she was the puppet-master; but her high level of achievement required her to don the costume of a simple puppet in the gears of war. As a special class mercenary, she appeared as nothing more than a gun and muscle for hire, whereas in fact, she was the mediator in which The Order controlled the massive populations outside of its dome. Many died by arguing with her that by acting in such high power with The Order, she reduced chaos. By bringing two overpowered nation's factions to the past to kill each other, she actually increased chaos since the nations violently crumbled after their leaders died. Her anarchistic ideology towards chaos could only preceded by her time-traveling career.

Returning what she could only categorize as a severely rusty salute, she began to draw away from him. Walking away, she relived the first day she tried to walk after losing all feeling in her legs. Walking off the elevation platform, her legs felt wobbly and unsteady like that day six years ago.

He watched her go, a wavering display of grace remained with her as he had seen in her before but with a metaphysical hole through her person. To his empathetic senses it showed through her in the same width and fashion as the hole that bore through his own middle.

The familiar grating of metal on earth heard behind him only suited to agitate the hole in his spark.

The Maximal clan had advanced on him. They used the secondary entrance to catch up to him; he felt their foot-steps upon his own lumbar and post-thoracic plating.

"You _slag-head_!!!!"

A winy voice no other than Rat-Trap wailed a verbal assault on his back. It didn't faze him; his metaphorical hole's process of widening was reserved only for the honorable female now a small distance in front of them.

"_Dino-__bot_…." A stern voice came from Optimus Primal.

His scapular and clavicular joints shot up in alarm, _now he had done it_…

His virtuous transgression had earned him a fate worse than spark extinguishment. He now had his back to the oncoming, _un-__primusly_ torture of receiving an audio-receptor full of nagging and discernment from the paternal leader.

The nerve…. The incredulous nerve Dinobot had to jeopardize them for his own accord.

Primal allowed an occasional drift of his optics to focus on the dangerous femme now released. Several meters away, her form began to dissipate into the night.

He opened his oral vocalizer, ready to verbally assault Dinobot in the longest, most torturing fashion he saw fit.

A high pitched whistle cut through the air, stealing his vocalizer's electrical function. The blast that followed, stole from him, the hindrance of needing to nag Dinobot in the present moment.

She felt fire lick at her suit; the suit's materials did well to keep her from vaporizing but not alleviating the intolerable sensation of intensified heat rapping on her brain.

Feet together, she managed to flail her body in limp spasms, far enough to not be devastated by the shockwave of the blast.

Lucky for her, it had been on the right side in which an enemy missile had side-lanced her. Burnt tarnish on her recently _polished by robots_ cannon would have looked terrible. Though she did not believe in luck, it was also quite lucky that the blast was at her right side because that ear was covered by a thick, plated headset. Thusly the ear was neither burnt nor rendered of all auditory receptive function on impact of the incendiary device.

After her vision finally began to stop dancing, she shot a deadly leer in the direction of her near-killer and his associates.

From what she slowly began to see, no smoke or ring of ember lingered in their area, the shot was from somewhere else.

A deep maniacal laugh whipped her head around to find what she could only deem as the source of the missile.

On the natural bridge she was on, she found a glowing ember ring to the right, floating somewhere on the elevated patch of canyon. Before her she eyed a relatively similar in exoskeletal-type grouping of robots closing in on the path she pursued.

_So she would have to execute her near-killer after all_…

She pulled her body from its face-down position. She stood stoically for a few seconds, eying the robots now only a few feet away from her. Following the remaining glow of the barrel in which the missile shot out from, she felt a strange garble of defensive aggression curl in her throat as she saw the body attached to the barrel of the missile launcher.

A bright, yellow strip of light glowed from its head, a sort of visor; it darkened and shifted into a slit at seeing her eyes upon it. Somehow, the visor was pliable and made the wearer capable of optical expression. It was not the strange visor that set a battle-ready ferocity to thrash deep inside her. It was the scorpion-like tail arched on its back and the large pincer-like missile turrets it wielded for arms that had her mouth sneered with a low growl vibrating on her lips. It was like a walking mix between a poison devil and a tank, the only two things that actually posed as a threat to her.

Her eyes were pulled away from the bastard's shiny, grey enameled plating to glare at the nearest of the group.

A large, possibly purple tinted mech strode towards her; if she thought her near killer and _Big Green_ were large and wide, the one before her now had to be double their width, and nearly a story tall. The sounds from its humanoid mouth were the same as the eluding language her captors spoke.

Not even firing, she spun on her heels, too irritated by the new batch of robots to waste ammo on them. She sped back to the mouth of the ship from where she had exited. The steady spray of beams and missiles nipping at her heels were excellent to present her spitefulness at being encircled. Shooting towards the familiar mechs at the ship, she smiled maliciously as a few of the stray followers blasted the ship. She was doing well to draw the fire onto her captors. In a gutsy move she dashed to the side, nearly bumping a missile that followed her from the right. She made it into the clear by jumping to the side of the craft. Now too far at an angle to be properly fired upon, she reached the ledge leading down the steep but shallow path. The path that was what brought her to this chaos and cured her of her boredom in the first place.

Dinobot marveled at how nimble she could move with the gargantuan cannon. His lowered jaw acted in another means to convey a point when her trajectory crossed paths with him and the whole ship. He fell to the ground to duck as plasma bursts shot past her to the spaces now above him.

_She didn't trust them_that was obvious to see as continuous blasts burned and dented the ship's hull.

He tensed when he looked up to see her bolting towards him only a meter away. His guard turned to awe as she flew over him, jumping majestically. Upon reaching the ground a few feet away from him, she bounced off of it as if she weighed nothing and flew at an angle to reach the side of the ship.

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_She didn't know they could fly_….

The rhetorical statement floated in her mind as she growled lowly at the flying, green obstruction in her path. Her hair whipped about from the air blasting due to the robot's set of insect styled wings. The ungodly buzzing projected from such quick flapping wings vibrated through her teeth.

Waspinator hovered in front of the oddly shaped Maximal; a proud sense of achievement adding to his buoyancy in the air. Once he dragged the cowardly runner's scrapped body back to Megatron, a reward from the leader would surely follow. Feeling a sense of panache rise from his spark, he threw back his head and let out as best he could, a chortle of maniacal laughter.

_Great_…. She frowned; _clearly blind arrogance proceeded beyond her own species_.

Sneering at the mass of hot air before her, a sudden thought interrupted her look of irritation.

As her gun lifted, a smile rose to her face. While the gun momentarily powered up, the smile on her face festered into a putrid, dark stain of sadism.

Seeing the gun, Waspinator's triumphant laughter ceased all together with a spasmodic hiccup. Looking down the gaping maw of the three-barreled cannon, his optics were enlarged to the size of the legendary golden disks.

A light squeeze and the three barrels spun faster than her eyes could see. Launching a short burst of several napalm, _wall-blaster slugs_ with a flare of fire behind them, she shot the green menace out of existence.

Again, Waspinator did not have the privilege of his stellar life-cycle flashing before his optics. The shots tore right through him and with several large, smoldering balls of fire; his body was blown apart all over the wall of the canyon. Amidst the agony and shock, his still functioning head took time to reflect over the recent misfortune with great disappointment and grief as it flew through the air.

She lowered her gun, satisfied with how lovely the pest decorated the path of rocks with its entrails. Not wishing to be irritated again by another misguided simpleton, she flew down the rocky path.

HRRRAAAH-EEUUGH!!!

For some confounded reason she stopped in her descent. The noise, it sounded exactly like the cry of pain her near-killer let out when she rent his arm from the socket. She cursed herself as she impulsively turned around and stealthily headed back up towards the ledge.

Flat against the ship's side, she gently craned an eye around the corner.

The tall, purple mech she saw after nearly being shot stood at the base of the ship's platform entrance. At the sight of movement, her eye slid over to find her near-killer thrashing in agony while a strange pincer-like device on the purple mech worked to cut him in half at the waist.

Seeing him thrash so uncontrollably she fought hard with her equilibrium as the screams of pain and shearing metal quaked her hunger ridden brain.

Staring in a daze, her mind was a thick soup, which only further liquefied as he roared another wail of pain. Swaying on her feet with a loss of balance, a strange occurrence began to wash over her. As if receiving a hypnotism-induced lobotomy, her perception of the situation changed drastically. Looking at the mech trying to cut her acquaintance in half she saw _herself_ thrashing in the pincer. In her strange shell-shock, she found _her body_ throwing back _her head_ and screaming. _Her body_ vainly trying to pry at the claw as _her_ ribs snapped and gave out to the vice. She stiffened, fists clenched as she saw _herself_ painfully being cut at the waist, blood seeping and shooting in juts while _her_ innards fell out from the new opening of severed skin and vertebrae. _Herself_ gazing in barely conscious shock at _her_ lower half being several feet beneath her on the ground, _her_ small intestine splayed out across the earth like unraveled rope. Though her near-killer didn't have any of the components she just hallucinated, _his_ natural fuel, cables, and hoses splayed on the ground with his now severed, lower half in the same fashion as her gory simile.

Other blasts, cries and sounds of metal flooded the space around her.

No longer able to take the mad ride the environment and her own psyche had put her on, she decided to resort to highly drastic measures. By some un-godly force, she did something that shocked herself…..

_She got involved_.

Jumping around the corner, she raised her gun in a fluid will of fury. Firing even before it was fully lifted from being angled at the ground, she raised it towards the tall purple mech to release her near-killer.

With fire in her veins, she began to level the area around her into a smoldering pit of craters. She took the massive kicking of the cannon with indifference; the smell of friction based heat, explosives and molten metal filled her with the tantric daze of a hallucinogen. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head for a moment as it seemed that time around her slowed to crawl as dirt, rock and mech flew through the air from her endless stream of fired explosives. The mind numbing sound blasts of explosions sounded in a twisted ambiance. The flares of light of the clouds of fire were to her, gentle rays of light from the sun on a relaxing summer day. Such unbridled chaos did well to demonstrate the blind will of her dubious impulse.

Ducking over the rock, Megatron was dumbfounded by the sudden onslaught that lost him the chance to crush the traitor Dinobot. Peering over the rock, he ducked down quickly as airborne wreckage arced over the rock to fall around him caused a nearby explosion.

Looking over again, this time without shooting fragments of rock to pierce his optics, he found himself gaping in shock at a pillar of smoke and flame that lifted to brighten the night sky.

She continued to fire randomly, the spread out of her shots would require the metallic bipeds to continue running for cover, keeping them from organizing against her. A nearby robot drew her fire off the grey bastard that had first shot at her. She opened fire on it, tempted to waste a few shells on the strange spindly limb-like extensions on its forearms. It ran around in berserk fashion, successfully dodging the shots, much to her dislike, until one of her ground shots flung it over a fence of thick rocks.

Tarantulas sputtered in incoherent grunts after recovering from his plunge over the rock barrier; after being airborne, he practically landed on Megatron. His hands had probed around in order to steady himself and accidentally gouged the leader's left optic out while the other groped him in the pelvic area. Realizing that he now lay on top of his easily enraged leader, unintentionally feeling him up, he quickly writhed to remove himself before Megatron threw him into enemy fire.

Seeing Megatron glare in his direction, no doubt he was just as disturbed, violated and mortified as Tarantulas was, he lifted his head to meet the crimson pink eyes that glowed in silent rage.

He didn't dare speak first, not knowing what Megatron would do to him now that his attack on the Maximals had been thrown back at him.

"What is that thing?" Megatron's voice was putrid with a sense of disgust; the indecency of being forced into retreat vexed him.

"I…" For once Tarantulas was lost for words, "I don't know…" He ended the sentence with a feeling of false pain. Probably a sensation of foresight for what possible abuse he'd later receive because Megatron was mortified over the adversity they now faced.

She fired without restraint, only once in the entirety of the madness did she have to recharge the energy core of her gun which produced such firepower. Remembering the catchy tune she came up with for the AIDS virus, she hummed it happily as her shots returned to the grey bastard. She smiled when her continuous blasting sheared off a pincer equipped arm and leg.

An attack from above forced her to find new ground. She glared at the sea of ink to try and find the foe as she continued to leap from the ground that was being desecrated around her.

The shower of blasts kept her from locating a target, for the moment she was forced into running in blind serpentine movement. One of the blasts hit the ground by her feet, the sheer force of the small explosion from impact rattled throughout her upper body's skeleton while the leg closest jerked uncontrollably. The blast vibrated through the metal, tibial components of her leg. The powerful vibrations forced the axons and neurons to shoot signals of muscle deviation; which resulted in the continuous kicking of her leg.

Having enough of running around as if her head was cut off while a foe above tried to incinerate her with plasma bursts; she quickly took action. Blindly she made her way back to the crater where her previous target lay. Nearly getting her ankles blown off from the shower at her feet, she dove over the grey mech. Grabbing its thick body, her adrenaline induced state enabled her to heave the thick, spark shooting carcass on top of her as a shield. In an Atlas pose she held the grey mech on top of her back, her arms stretched behind her to steady the load on top of her while she rested on her knees. The mech must have weighed a ton, she grit her teeth in agony at the disadvantage she was in while being protected from the incinerating blasts. Posterior to the shooting foe, she wished she could hold the body like a shield with her shoulder rather than with her back like a globe, that way she could return fire.

Surprisingly, the cumbersome, grey remains worked to absorb the blasts; not a single plasma burst shot through the deactivated mech.

She groaned; the metal load was crushing her, each blast made it harder to support. Being rhythmically shoved by the continuous force of the blasts, she became more aware of the intense heat that leaked through the body as the plasma shots progressively ignited the metal until parts began to glow. As the heat finally began to sting, her eyes rolled up her head behind tight shut lids. A quick thought leaked through her mind while her eyes remained closed to prevent the flying blasts of dirt around her from entering her eyes.

_Could ALL of them fly_….?

She remembered the green one that hovered in front of her in foolish effort to block her path. If all of them were capable of flight, she would need to dispose of all of them as quickly as she could. Her trigger-happy merriment would have to be put on the side if she wanted to continue living.

Throwing the body off of her, she quickly worked to even the field, or rather, the sky, in her predicament.

Shoving the body off, she took a second to notice that several patches of its chest were light orange pools of molten metal. A blast of dirt which showered her right side quickly dragged her back to the matter at hand.

Using her free right hand she pulled her Rutendo Dwarf rifle from its holding place between her shoulders. Flipping a switch on the side; a thin, 5 in tall, transparent screen of plastic unfolded to mount on top of the gun. The sensors located inside the gun and around the screen detected the presence of nightfall and switched to the illuminated night vision mode. Moving it to show her flying attacker as it flew in predatory circles around her, the image through the screen used telephoto lens technology to zoom in on the foe's abdominal area. Feeling the crosshairs lock into place, she squeezed the trigger and didn't let up. The bullets now flying through the air were used as a form of pin-point location. The pre-programmed response of the gun's computer made it so that a tracer was activated on each bullet to light up as they flew though the night air and deflected off the foe's metal chassis. The constant stream of bullets from the fully automatic gun created a glowing path in which she could strike. After only 8 seconds a target was established and she lifted her cannon to move in for the kill.

A shrieking cry like a crow's caw sounded as the creature plummeted after a large burst of fire threatened to blow it in two. A line of smoke from the intense flames attached to its tail and marked its path as it spiraled down ward.

Slowly creeping over the barrier of rock, both Megatron and Taratulas followed the depressing fall of the shot down Terrorsaur. Their heads turned comically in circles to follow the impressive spiral his body made before it finally crashed into the ground. As the loud crash sounded they both winced in unison.

Megatron's head slowly turned to glare at Tarantulas.

Feeling the optics' burning holes into his head, he sheepishly looked back at his silently enraged leader.

"This was your idea wasn't it…?" Megatron said through clenched teeth.

Tarantulas gulped, "yeah…. But originally Blackarach-GLEEUH!"

Megatron grabbed the little _robot without an assembly line's_ neck, shaking him harshly as his face remained in a scrunched scowl.

His leader cut him off before the blame could be bestowed upon the actual mastermind of the operation, the little _glitch_ herself... Blackarachnia…

Not too far away, the actual _bot_ guilty of the crime, cringed behind the rock watching the strangulation play out in front of her. Thank _Primus_ Megtron's temper was so short or that would've of been her thrown over the barrier and into the enemy's grasp. Running a bumblebee striped claw over her forehead, she was relieved that it was Tarantulas and not herself that was now screaming in horror and agony as the thing in question turned around to greet him by blasting him to pieces in a cloud of fire.

With a giant boom, Tarantulas was now a wave of metal confetti, which showered over them like rain. She sneered as one of his spider limbs landed on her shoulder, brushing it off; she gently crawled over to the area where her leader was still fuming.

Now only five feet away, a good sense of contact that would keep her out of his deadly grasp, she got his attention with a simple remark.

"I think we should retreat…" She tried to state it bluntly but it still held a small expression of sheepishness.

Looking over at her, wanting deeply to bestow upon her the same fate as Tarantulas, he kept himself from doing so. With Tarantulas now as confetti, Terrorsaur and Scorpinok shot down and most likely unconscious, plus the fact that Waspinator was nowhere to be found; he didn't have any opportunity for rage. Not to mention his sensors were now warning him to convert back to beast mode or suffer stasis lock.

Instead of disposing of her as he desired he glared at her and stated bluntly, "Help me get the others… We're going to need to grab as many pieces as we can…"

Lowering her gun she watched as the remaining two intact quickly scurried to grab the pieces of their comrades. She didn't fire on them out of mercy or sympathy but rather the fact that her gun was so hot from the shooting fest, that she had to deactivate it or suffer core-implosion. Watching them, the dwarf-rifle in her right hand itched for a fight, but remained gripped at her side. She already learned the painful lesson of how successful it was on robots when she had first met her near-killer. As they flew over the rock bridge and dispersed into the dark of the night she turned to look at the cluster of robots ducked behind various parts of the ship. Though far away, she could see expressions in their lit eyes, the various brow ridges were parted in way that was dumbfounded and in shock but at the same time glowed in thankfulness. Unintentionally, she had helped them defeat some sort of enemy, but that wasn't her first concern, her first concern was to reach her near-killer and sort out either in violence or other means the emotions she had with him.

Reaching where he lay on the ground in a puddle of glowing blue and purple liquids, she found the pieces of her near killer. Scrunching her lip in debate, she finally decided a quick utterance of a military slogan would work as a funeral hymn for his death. Uttering the words bluntly, she jumped back when her dead, near-killer suddenly moved.

_Guess these mechs are more resilient than I thought_….

She stared at him blankly as he lurched toward her; a path of glowing fluid flowed steadily behind him as he remained as nothing more than a torso. Drawing her eyes away from how his arms grappled with the earth to drag his body, her sight moved to his face which was constantly looking at her. He had a smile on his face, clear as the transparent screen still activated on her gun. The grin was disturbing to her as it seemed that he smiled not out of the sake that he remained alive but for the inescapable truth that she had come back.

Though it wouldn't make the truth go away, she glared at him. This only made him smile more until his vicious teeth were bared in the grin.

Nearly at her ankle, they both jolted in surprise when the one to reach her was _spots_. She was sent into further shock when the smiling gold and navy blue mech suddenly enveloped her in a tight hug.

She didn't know whether to stand and remain in shock or quickly act to break both of the mech's knee-joints.

Since her cannon was still deactivated, she settled for slitting her eyes and giving _spots_ a vicious growl. Though it didn't destroy the mech it did get him off of her. She loosened her tightened shoulders in appeasement as the mech jumped back a few feet in terror.

Too bad for her the fear didn't last much longer as she found herself surrounded by the group of mechs. All of them were expressing some form of happiness for her unintentional act of valor. With only her useless dwarf rifle to fend them off, she looked down at the ground where her near killer rested. Not having anything else she could do; she shot him a confused, pleading look.

On the ground he looked deep into her eyes and shrugged his shoulders.

The _what__ can you do _look left her dissatisfied.

With a deep breath, she finally gave into the strange situation and replied with a smirk.

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_TK-PRODUCTIONZ: I don't own Beast Wars, wish I did, blah, blah,__blah, oh and just so people remember….._

_NO ONE DIED!!!!_


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